Within Honor
by Sea19
Summary: Gemma joins the Nights watch with hopes to find the secrets of her past as well as glory yet as she vows to lead her brothers alongside her most trusted friend she struggles to balance the lover she feels for Jon Snow and her duty to the Nights Watch. . . Jon Snow X OC Spoilers coming around ch. 8!
1. Chapter 1 Of the Nights Watch

Gemma`s last look at the old stone house was full of sorrow. I told myself so long ago that I never wanted to leave this place but here I am drinking the last breaths of the cool midnight air. A distant buzzing echoes throughout the valley from the bees gathering pollen from the night lilies. I walk over to one purple blossom and trace a finger along the silken petals. "This may be the last lily I ever see", Gemma thought with a sadness enveloping her heart. My eyes search the surrounding forest, etching every image into memory. The great oak that Danny and I climbed when they were younger still stood looking lonely without their fingers scaling the bark. I walk slowly to the garden, slipping over the low fence. With shaking hands I pick some vegetables to take on this long journey. I pull a few red potatoes from the ground and a very large radish as well. There are some ripe carrots and onions that I take as well. I make my way towards the fruit trees and gather my most favored fruit: dragon pears. My hands reach the tall branches of the tree to pull the very best fruits down, their rough skin scratching my calloused hands. I put them in the bag strapped around my waist with the rest of my food. Great chunks of dried lamb and chicken lie at the bottom and make my stomach rumble in wanting of a small taste. Before I give in, I close the bag and step towards the small creek. Lights glow in the water blue and gold and red. I will miss watching the fish swim peacefully under the starlight. Reluctantly, I leave and head towards the stables. My brother`s sword, bow, and cape lay at the door where I left them hours ago. I latch the weapons to my back and grab the cape when I enter the dusty stable. A shadow darts quickly in front of me.

"Longqu`, I was wondering where you went off to," I whisper leaning down to pet the enormous tabby. The cat`s purring reverberates through my hand and I enjoy his company. I walk slowly towards the last stall, Longqu` still following me. He sits back on his haunches when we arrive at the stall, his wise green eyes watching me. I grasp the cold iron handle and pull the door open in full view of Danny`s horse. She looks up at me from her bed on the straw covered floor knowing that it is time to leave. She lifts gently from the floor and nuzzles my shoulder. I pull the saddle from the stall door and strap the leather on her. With all the quiet I can muster, I drag the horse Mira out into the night. I tie the last bit of my effects to her and feel the need to leave before night slips by. I must go before I lose the chance, even if my heart despises me for leaving this place behind. Longqu` still trails behind the horse and I: He knows what lies ahead. I step over to him and pet his head silently. He leans towards me with a fat belly grazing the ground. His sad eyes look up at me, trying to make me stay. It makes me sad to lose him, but sadder that he loses yet another human friend. My lips graze his head in a final goodbye and I step towards Mira. When I place myself into her saddle I click the reins slightly urging the horse to walk. My eyes remain forward, for I am certain that if I chance a look behind me I will never leave my old home. We pass the bee hives and animals sleeping in gray barns. Mira makes barely a sound as she walks down the dirt path to the unknown, through the woods, and away from everything I love.

It was only hours ago that I kissed my little brother goodbye and had a last look at my mother and father. Eli was still asleep on his cot with no knowledge that I had been there but mother had seen. I had peeked through their door for one last glace at my family and her eyes stared back at me. Yet, she let me leave. I vaguely remember raising a hand in farewell to see her raise her own. How and why she let me off so easily escapes me, but I think she has also known that I would leave. She knew ever since he died I could not stay. He had a dream to be a great warrior and protect the lands of Westeros from destruction and harm. He yearned for the honor of being a knight. As children I knew he mostly wanted most to be a member of the great Kingsgaurd, but now he was gone, yet his dreams still remain. I may not be able to become a knight, but I will be a warrior. I will live his dream for him. I will keep the last promise I made to my brother. As Mira steps onto the King`s road, I think of the future I ride towards. I push back the need to look back by looking at Mira. "We ride North, for Danny," I say nudging my foot in her rib gently. She neighs in agreement and gallops on into the night.

...

We ride fast without much disturbance from the quiet night coming across only one group of ragged travelers. I am grateful for the few people who travel at night. We pass many inns during the night. Their boisterous noise and candle light leaks out onto the road, joy echoing about the forest. As I pass the road to The Eyrie, a group of fine dressed travelers are out in the morning air readying for a journey. I take my first break here and tie up Mira to a post. Inside I address a woman I assume to be the innkeeper. I wish to save the water I have and have some ale here. She smiles suddenly showing disgusting blood red teeth and fetches me a cup. There are men talking and laughing at a table across the room tottering drunkenly on a bench.

"What business does a girl have with bow and sword, hmm?" A voice behind me mocks. A balding man in dented silver armor says with a kind smile in my direction.

"There is no need to be nosy, Ser Rodrick. Leave her be," a woman says in the doorway as I am about to answer. The woman smiles at me, though she emanates an unhappy mood. The man, Ser Rodrick probably, smiles at me one last time and makes towards the door. I notice the symbol on her cloak and bow to her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Stark," I say rising from my stool. She inquires my name with tired eyes questioning every inch of my appearance. "I am Gemma daughter of Norne from Lanka`s falls." A truer smile crosses her face in recognition of my decent.

"Yes, I believe I knew your father and grandfather. I grew up feasting on the precious honey that comes from your meadow. How fares your grandfather, Ser Montigaine?"

"He passed years ago, I`m sorry to say but my father takes care of the honey now," I`m grateful she seems unaccustomed to my recent family history. She will be fooled if I have to lie. The Lady nodded and mentioned something about my grandfather`s reputation.

"He was a good man. I can remember the Ser and your father bringing treats and sweet breads to my family as a child. He would not wish his granddaughter travelling alone," Lady Stark`s voice is suddenly stern as her hawk like eyes settle on mine searching for an answer to her unsaid question.

"My brother wanted to meet me here for reason. He took my father`s weapons in case of trouble and insisted I take his for the same reason. It was a silly request of me; my brother can be a bit foolish." The last lie pains my heart, Danny was never inconsiderate in that way. I hate to describe him as such.

"He must be foolish or believe you to be good with a sword if he bid you go by yourself," she says still studying me. The knight stands back in the doorway, words hanging on his lips yet he stays silent not wanting to disturb the Lady Stark. She sees him and turns quickly back to me. "I hope he comes soon for you Gemma of Lanka. Safe travels."

"And you Lady Stark," I reply quietly.

I finish my ale and wait until I no longer hear their horses in the distance. I place a copper coin on the table and leave the inn. Mira neighs happily at me from the post I had tied her to. I remove her from the post and start again on the long journey north.

Carriages are all over the main road heading south to partake in the festivities of the Hand`s tournament. Groups journey by horseback and nearly push me off the road. I let them and head into the dense evergreen forest. I reach back and search within the soft leathers of my pack until I grip the old strips of paper. My grandfather`s old maps would be my guide. I stretch one across Mira`s back and find a place about four hours ride at the most that would make a safe camping spot. After safely returning it we trot through the woods.

Grandfather Motigaine had marked on the map where the savage tribes were not likely to go and also where safe places to camp might be. I try to stay in those areas. As the sunlight begins to fade we reach the camp on the edge of a cool river. Jumping out of the saddle I release Mira from the leather and my bags so she can roam and relax for the night. I am about to sink my teeth into the jerky when I glimpse the Gods wood surrounding me. It is abandoned but I now know that no soul will bother me tonight, animal or human. I drop the food and go to kneel at the bottom of the wise old tree. Its eyes stare down at me making me feel less alone. I pray silently that the old gods will keep my family safe and that my brother Eli will grow up strong and safe to become a knight and heir to the falls as my family has been since the first men. As Danny should have been. The empty eyes of the tree bore down into my own soul as if it could hear the prayer.

As I rise from the damp earth clinging to my breeches, I see Mira lapping water from the river. She seems grateful for the rest. I am grateful for the rough salted meat easing the ache in my belly. I offer some apples to Mira which she accepts with a loving whiney. After some berries and a large dragon pear my body aches for sleep. With the watchful eyes of the gods wood I let it take me.

. . . . .

In my dream there is white across the land and sky. The white falls in powdery clumps to the extent that I cannot tell whether up is up or down is up. There are no stars in this white sky. I am lost among the white dust. Something lurks closer in the darkness. A pair of great red eyes stops only an arms length away. Warm breath blows in my face. The long snout of a white wolf looms in front of me. I stretch my hand toward its fur, desperate for warmth and the downy softness of its fur. The great wolf welcomes my touch and I nestle in close to it enjoying the company of this newfound friend. The wolf towers over my crouched frame: This was no regular wolf. It nuzzles me like mother would to its child, tongue kissing my cheek. A voice behind me calls and the wolf perks up. In reply to the voice it offers a long howl into the cold wind.

I try and tell the wolf to stop since it will alert whomever is there but it ignores my plea. I am glad the wolf does not go and greet the stranger. The man walks close behind me now, for I hear the scrunching of the white beneath his feet. I hear his voice again, a soft deep voice straining against the wind to be heard, but I can make out no words. I look to the wolf and squeeze its neck slightly. A new voice that seems to come from inside the walls of my own head says "You can turn around. He is good." The red eyes of the wolf look into my own knowingly as if it was his voice I had heard a moment ago.

I wake from the dream unsure if I saw the man`s face or not.

. . . .

Mira and I leave the camp after a quick breakfast of the large radish and chicken jerky. I feel sad to leave the gods wood; they looked after me well. Throughout the day it seems to be colder and my sweat freezes on my skin. I hoist by brother`s deerskin cape over my shoulders for warmth. We ride swiftly through the night and make excellent time off the main road. We only stop three times in the next four days and for quick stops. I am afraid to sleep for long in case a robber or hungry animal stops by our camp during my slumber. At the end of the fourth day Mira and I have passed Winterfell. Thankful for shelter and a warm bed, I rest for a day and a half and then continue on the trails my grandfather mapped years ago.

The white dust is everywhere, though not as cold and thick as my dream. I see no large wolves either, nor many animals at all at the exception of a group of deer. The leather gloves my brother had made for me in secret were well needed at last. The dark black leather keeps the wet dust off my hands while the fur lining makes sure my fingers are warm. Just when I start to become used to the cold around Winterfell, the wind blows harder and any heat flies south marking that winter is on its way. I am very near the wall now and ready to join the Night`s Watch. I can even see the wall from here looming over the entire world it seems.

I have already given so much; my family, my home, the very warmth in my body, but now I have just one more thing to give up. It really shouldn`t be as hard as I make it, but tears sting my eyes as I ready my dagger. The beautiful tresses spilling down my back will never be able to hang this long, for fear I may look too much like a girl. I look at my reflection in a pond. The ice shows my face as a mirror would, shining in the sun. I am paler than when I left home. The lovely rosy stain on my cheeks is replaced by a red chaff mark from the relentless wind. My mother used to love my face and hair for that. The girlish blush and shine in my soft long tresses would make men fall to their knee in love one day she said. Mother would be so saddened to learn what I have to do. I run my fingers through the strands and pull out a few leaves that have made a home. Even now with grime and twigs in it, my hair is still soft and beautiful. With a sigh I lift the dagger to the base of my neck and pull against my lovely dark hair. It shreds without any effort. I cradle the strands in my arms as droplets role down my cheeks. Sobs quake through my body as I realize all that I`ve left behind just to become a boy. I weep and pity myself like that for a long while, the sun is nearly down when I stop. I look again into the ice mirror and fix the parts sticking out on my head.

I do look like a boy, the leather of my coverlet flattens my breasts and covers my curves. It makes me look a bit fat for a girl, but still skinny for a boy. I look like a younger boy, thirteen or fourteen years old, even though I am truly sixteen. With a sigh I accept that for my brother`s dream I have no need to be pretty but I do have to appear to be a man. I had promised Danny and I won`t break my vow.

For the first time since he died, I draw his sword from the engraved sheath. The valerian steel shines bright in the fading sunlight. The ancient sword Durandal holds strong in my arms, but I doubt my ability to wield it. The sword is heavy in my hands and I slash it around in the ways my brother used to teach me with the wooden swords. I swing the thin blade in the same fashion I could with a wooden sword, but alas, I am not so much of an expert with a real blade. Once my shoulders start to ache, I sheath the sword and undo the bow and quiver from my back. I place a few apple cores on a faraway tree branch. From the quiver I draw an arrow, notch it, and pull back the tight string till I can place my thumb against my cheek, just like Danny taught me. Airs sucks through my nose and out my swollen chapped mouth. I release the arrow. The arrow shoots through the air at a speed I am most proud of, spinning on its way and splattering the apple core all over the surrounding trees. I was the second best archer of the families in the Valley. I suppose I`m the best now. I shoot the next two cores and collect the arrows. With proof in my own heart, I am ready to join the Night`s Watch.

Mira and I ride for scarcely an hour when we reach the entrance to the Castle Black. The men watching the gate see me coming from a long way off and meet me on horseback before I reach the gate. Their torch bobs in the distance as they gallop closer. When they inquire my purpose, I tell them in the deepest voice I can muster that I wish to join the Night`s Watch. The two men give me a wary look before they escort me the rest of the way to the Castle Black.

The place looks empty and dreary, lacking happiness as it does warmth. The wall casts everything in shadow at this time of night. Fear creeps in suddenly when the moon is lost behind the great wall. They show me to the stables and I leave Mira in the warmth of the barn. She munches on hay happily as a reluctantly skid away. I swallow my fear, and follow the men into a nearby tower.

Laughter echoes out into the night as we get closer and torch lights can be seen from under the doorway of the tower. Inside the room, the smell of a feast clouds my senses and I realize how hungry I am. I grimace longingly as we pass the food spread out on the table for the young men of the Night`s Watch. I feel eyes boring into my back, but it troubles me none.

In the back room two more men wait for me. Both are older men though burly and tall in stature. As common of the Night`s Watch, they are dressed head to toe in black. One has harsh lines etched into his face, yet his eyes are kind and he passes me a brief smile when I enter the room. It seems as if they were expecting me.

"What`s your name boy?" He asks in a deep commanding voice.

"Glenn, sir. Glenn from Riverrun," I say keeping eye contact.

"You`re not a Tully are you Glenn from Riverrun?" He says.

"No sir a farmer`s son. I mean to protect the land as a man of the Night`s Watch sir." The man looks cryptically at me for a second before the man next to him cuts in.

"As small as you are what help would you give us? I doubt you can lift that sword to polish it let alone swing it," he remarks with a snide tone. His eyes shine bright in the light of the torch as he stands and walks towards me. "Gah, I bet a girl could swing that blade better than you." His eyes twinkle with cruel laughter at the anger across my face. My ears are turning red with rage, not the everlasting cold for once.

"Alliser, that`s enough. We`ll take any man we can get if they will make it through the training," his companion said gesturing for his friend to sit back down. "I am the Lord Commander of the Night`s Watch Jeor Mormont and this is Ser Alliser Thorne, The Master at Arms of Castle Black. Eat well and sleep tonight, for tomorrow you will train with him and your new brothers of the Night`s Watch. Lord Marsh is going to fetch you some black leathers that you will don starting tomorrow, although your cloak will do since it is black. You may choose to reside in any of the towers except for the Eastwatch Sea Tower, Castle Black, and the Shadow Tower," with that he dismisses me from the room to go and fetch the Night Watch`s attire. As I pass the feast I so hungered after the need for food is taken over by a need for sleep. Lord Marsh guides me to get the new attire and I am left by myself for a bit.

I slip tiredly towards the tower filled with the least amount of lights and drifted up the cold steps to the first floor. No one looks to be living here so I make my bed up and slip into my underclothes. I lay myself over the hay mattress and hear light footsteps on the stairs. The torch light creeps into the room underneath the crack of the door. My eyes are too heavy to stay open, so I give up and let them close. Before I drift off to sleep I hear someone gently call "here Ghost" and sleep takes over the night.


	2. Chapter 2 Training

** I don`t own Game of Thrones or Jon Snow!**

The morning sun rises too soon, and a knock at the door wakes me from a dreamless sleep. I`m glad for whomever it is, there is nothing to gain in being late. I begin to pick up my brown leathers and realize my mistake. Ser Allister would want me to wear the color of the Night`s Watch, not my own clothes. I pull on the dirty black leather trousers, thankful that they fit only loosely. My hips are too round to pass for a boy, yet the trousers are spacious enough to hide them. The top does the same justice for by breasts, though the leather is smudged and dirty and needs a bit of sewing done on the sleeve. I latch bow and quiver to me and head down the flight of stone steps with my black cape over my arm.

The moment I step out of the tower I wish I hadn`t; the cold is bitter and the wind tears at my flesh and clothes. When I wrap Danny`s cape around my shoulders it warms me little. Men are already gathering in a large area towards Castle Black. I walk briskly in their direction. There are only five other boys there than me: most of them look 16 or 17. A tall boy with black hair pokes fun at the large brut next to him. He has a wild beard and a thick face to match his body. A stout boy looks over at me with a glare from across the circle, fingers griping the sword on his belt. He is the only boy who notices me within the circle. The others are either too preoccupied or too tired in the morning air to notice a scrawny new recruit. Ser Allistor Thorn saunters up with a cocky edge in his step. He barks orders telling the two biggest of the boys to duel. It seems the one staring is called Rast and his opponent Grenn, I believe. Two other boys have taken a place next to me; a very large one and a tall boy with a mass of messy black hair. As Rast and Grenn duel, the large boy loses interest looking everywhere but the fight. His eyes wander up to the wall and then all the way to the stables. He seems afraid to watch the fight, as if he might be next in line to draw his sword. The one with black hair watches the fight with interest, never missing a step that either of his dueling brothers make. His dark eyes trace every move in the duel, knowing every strike and step. No one talks in the circle but the Master At Arms and the fighting men. They twist and turn in the little armor they wear, swinging at each other trying desperately to land a blow.

The boy Grenn takes a hard blow to the chest and goes flying. Rast smacks the flat of his wooden sword against Grenn`s side a few more times when Allistor calls the boys to a halt.

"Take a break, worthless maggot. We`ll move to the next beating," Allistor remarks looking at the loser of the battle, Grenn who sulks away. He searches around the circle until his beady rest upon me. I shrink like some coward under the Ser`s gaze. "Our new brother can go next. Rast prepare for another victory." His smile becomes mean and cruel as if the Master At Arms hopes I will crumble beneath my opponents wooden sword. I snatch a long sword from a bucket and walk to center of the ring. Gloved fingers grasping the hilt of the heavy weapon, I take some practice swings nervously. My heart painfully beats in my chest, threatening to burst in fear of these men destroying my chances of becoming a knight of black. I cling to the memories of my brother and his lessons in weaponry.

"I go right you dance left and catch my arm from under. I go right you go left. Anticipate, react, trick me with your moves. If I block, try and flourish correctly: you may make me drop this sword Gemma if you do this right. Good, that`s right! Be quick, counter that move. . ." Everything Danny taught me rushes back, but this is not child`s play as it was practicing with Danny. He went easy on me, these men will butcher me if I make the wrong move.

Ser Allistor nods to mark the beginning of the spar and my opponent walks carefully around the circle, his eyes studying me. Rast waits for me to move first, but with him being thrice my size I know better. He would tear me to bits if I ran at him with his guard up as it is now. My best move is to wait until he becomes impatient. It doesn`t take long before he lurches at me, already at his wit`s end. Apparently, this _man_ has no patience. I side step him easily, muscles remembering tougher opponents. I swing my sword into his side as he turns to slash at me, but I am too fast for this brut. I roll away from him to the other side of the circle before he is fully turned. Irritation is evident in the scrunched up expression marking Rast`s face. He charges, slashing his sword at my head and nearly getting his mark. I turn and hit him again in his unprotected backside. He grunts in anger at my mockery, and Rast moves faster now trying to hit me. As his sword grazes my thigh none too lightly, I flourish till my sword nicks his hand. _That_ would have made even my brother proud. My opponent`s sword goes flying out of the circle and Rast grips his wrist in pain. The cold wind leaves frozen sweat droplets to my thighs making me feel utterly disgusting. I try not to care. Finally, my heart slows to a normal rate in my chest.

Rast spits in my direction and leaves the confines of the training arena. I glance around at the surrounding men. Many of them have uninterested looks upon their faces, but a few share a shocked look with each other.

I hear a distant clapping and turn to see the Master At Arms slowly making the sound. He is most certainly mocking me. "Think your tough now do you boy? That performance was not fit for a ranger, you`re all weak little dogs," he bellows in my direction. Ser Allistor`s eyes glare into mine as if he dares me to challenge him. I stare back, repressing a flinch. The Ser yells for another boy to enter the arena, one called Snow. At the name all the heads perk up, suddenly interested in the fight. Rast smiles at me from across the empty yard as if he sees revenge in sight. The boy who seemed the most interested in the fighting with the black hair steps into the training area. He looks at me curiously and back at the Ser. With astonishment I realize he is thinner than most of the other boys; I have yet to notice till now due to the large billowing cloak strung about his shoulders. He spreads his feet apart and raises his sword showing his readiness to fight. I do the same. Ser Allistor nods again to start the sparing. The boy flies into motion at me, swinging the sword from all directions it seems. The Snow man already notices that my right leg is moving slower from Rast`s hit. He aims his attacks toward that leg. The dark haired man lands two blows there in succession and I sprawl out onto the cold ground. Before he can make a "killing blow" I roll out of his way and stand back up, favoring the bruising leg. Allistor yells something about hurrying up the fight, but we both ignore him.

Our blades cross again and I try and focus on his movements. He leaves no part of his body open to attack and meets my blows with astonishing speed. If I flourish him, my opponent will end up unswording me. If I block, he will push me over with the sheer strength behind his wooden blade. My only option is to avoid being hit and look for an opening. He strikes against my sword but I keep moving away from Snow to avoid feeling his strength that will overwhelm my own. As I feign left, he follows my lying body, and I duck under his arm. From this angle, Snow`s right arm is left unprotected. I gather my strength and strike him on his upper arm. I dance away as he swings in my direction, ready to strike if he comes near. Snow brings his left hand to his sore arm, a grimace of pain on his face. I lash at him in this moment of weakness, but he brings the wooden blade up just in time to meet my own.

I push against him, now that we are evenly matched, and realize how close we stand. His own dark eyes are mere inches from my own and the heat radiating off of him warms my hands and face. I breathe in his woodsy scent and start to lean in when my grip on the wooden hilt falters. With a push, Snow sends me sprawled out in the white dust, and whaps me between neck and shoulder, delivering the killing blow. The men around us stand silent, eyes watching the tension between victor and loser. Even Allistor keeps his mouth shut. I`m sure they can feel our egos flaring, even if I am secretly glad to be done with this fight. Snow reaches a hand toward me, offering to help me up. I grab my sword and accept the kind offer. Ser Allistor dismisses us from the training field, and orders me to the stables. I do not hear where the Snow boy is sent.

I limp over towards the great barns that store the horses where a steward guides me in the procedure. I am all too familiar with cleaning horse stalls and it is unneeded. He hands me my tools and points to my side of the barn. I am to clean 12 horse stalls; this will be a long night. . .

Mira snorts at me happily and I give her a pat on her silky nose before I begin the tedious task. The bruise on my leg pulsates beneath the black leather breeches and I lean against the door, afraid to let tears fall. With this kind of throbbing I slowly clean the horse stalls. I have to take breaks often from the ache in my leg. Too soon, the sun is setting behind the wall leaving me and the men of the Night`s Watch in shadow again. Sadly, I still have four stalls left. I take a sip from the canteen latched to my belt when a voice calls from behind me.

"That was quite a fight you and Jon had today," the boy said with large wide eyes. It is the very large boy that seemed afraid to fight in the arena. "I`m Samwell Tarly by the way," he adds, offering me his hand. I glance down at my gloves and notice the horse shit all over them. Before I shake his hand I make sure to remove the soiled glove.

"Glenn," I say smiling. We stand for a while, silence between us except for the sounds that come from my shoveling. "How long have you been at the Wall?" I say trying to make conversation.

"A little more than two months," the large boy replies. Curiosity strikes me then. From his reaction to the fighting I expected much less than that.

"Why aren`t you interested in the sword?" I ask. He looks at me, pudgy face turning into a sad expression. "Sorry, you seemed bored and rather scared to fight earlier at training. I don`t blame you though. To be honest I was scared fighting out there," I try and smile to make him feel more comfortable. He looks at me again, discomfort in his eyes.

"I`m not suited to be a ranger: I have no talent for the sword," Sam says, his expression a bit lost.

"No worries, the Night`s Watch needs men. They will find a place for you," I say although I am not certain whether this is a lie or truth. I silently question why such a boy would go to the Wall knowing that he must protect the realm, yet also knowing that he has no will to fight. He seems comforted by my words, which makes me glad to have said them. I move to the next stall with a wheelbarrow full of shit and hay and start cleaning it. Sam stays for a while longer, then remarks that dinner will be out soon and leaves me to my chore. At the last stall my arms shake in the act of trying to lift the shovel and every muscle burns in my body from the strenuous activity. All the stalls are clean on my side of the barn and I push the wheelbarrow out into a nearby dumping ground for horse feces. My last task for the horses is to feed and water them. It doesn`t take long. Before I go to the dining hall, I wash my smelly gloves in the white dust covering the ground, hoping they will be clean. After shoving them into my pockets, I make for the noisy feast.

Boys and men gather at the tables devouring every morsel of food in sight. The trainees seem to only be eating a soup of some sort, while the men of the Night`s Watch pull apart some kind of poultry. I grab a bowl of soup to stop the growl assaulting by belly. On my fourth bowl I finally start to observe the people around the table. Grenn sits next to his tall dark haired friend and they laugh and chortle like they had this morning. Rast listens to their banter, looking less menacing than this morning with the smile gracing his face. Sam sits next to me, occasionally saying something to Jon Snow next to him. They seem unperturbed by my presence at their table. Suddenly the table goes silent and all eyes are directed towards me. I look up in confusion at them, setting my spoon and bowl down on the rough wood.

"How old are you boy?" Grenn said looking at me curiously. I tell him that I`m 15. The table laughs at that.

"I swear, you look the same as my 12 year old sister, small as you are. You certainly are quick though, I`ll give you that. Best fight with Lord Snow here any of us have seen," the lanky boy next to Grenn remarks. He looks at Jon with a wicked smile. "If Rast hadn`t roughed the boy up beforehand I swear he would`ve had you Snow." Jon smiles a bit at the jibe, but still seems to have a dent in his pride. I pray that I haven`t made an enemy only on my first day. The boys keep conversing as though I`m not there and I learn the lanky boy`s name is Pyp. From the conversation between Grenn and him, it seems Pyp was a travelling minstrel of some sort before he took the black.

When the boys start discussing women, or more from the sound of it whores, I drink up a sixth bowl of soup and leave the table. Someone jests at my back saying "Ah the boy`s too young to love a girl, yet. Cock too small yet Glenn?" Laughter erupts from the table and I walk from the room, face the color of a cherry due to the embarrassing claim. I`ve never heard men talk in such a way before; even my grandfather never spoke so raunchily and he was the most travelled out of all the men in my family. I bet they would never say such words if they knew me to be a lady. On the other hand, that may cause worse problems. I`ll be happy if no one ever knows. I look around the outside of the dining hall. A huge white dog lies on the floor, relaxing. As I gaze at its soft downy fur, it lifts a massive head and meets my eyes. I recognize the dog immediately, but it is no dog. The skinny snout of a wolf sniffs my legs, and red eyes pierce my soul. The same red eyes from my dream. I lean down on the cold stone and hold out a hand for the beast to sniff. Instead it rubs its face against my hand. The wolf`s pink warm tongue flicks out to taste my flesh. I hope not for a bite, though, if it is the same wolf from my dream, I doubt it will. As the wolf stands, it towers over my crouched form. I reach up and scratch it behind the ears and the wolf allows me to crawl closer. I give it a brief hug and say goodnight.

The walk to my new home is cold and the wind nearly pushes me over. The white dust blows in my face going up my nose and freezing in my eyes. When the safety of the tower looms over me a figure darts inside; the white wolf has followed me. It shakes off the dust in its fur and pads up the stone steps alongside me. I take a torch from the wall to light the way to my bedroom. After I have some more underclothes I make my way further up the stairs in search of the bathing room. Two floors up, I find a large stone room with a stone tub in the middle. Above the tub, a large open pipe looms with a rope dangling beneath it. I pull the rope and steaming hot water pours out into the stone basin. I throw my clothes in a corner far away from the tub and shut the door. Moments later, I hear a scratching from behind the door accompanied by a quiet whine. Gods help me, the wolf wants to join me.

I undo the latch on the door and the beast rushes in, enjoying the steam filling the room. I lock the door and start to rip the nappy leather off my body, although my skin feels no cleaner than the clothes. Shivers wrack my body as I stand naked in the cloudy air. I pull the rope to stop the flow of water and step into the steaming abyss. Just like swimming in the river at home, I submerge myself below the water. The water is so warm it burns my previously cold limbs and soothes my bruises. When my lungs sting from the lack of air, I rise from the water, grateful for the warmth spreading throughout my limbs. After the grime is cleaned from me, I stare at my reflection in the water. I suppose I look like a boy, but being clean I seem more like a girl. My freshly scrubbed cheeks have a rosy look, though still chafed from the wind. My hair doesn`t go every which way when held by water droplets. It seems longer now. My eyes seem too large for a boy, but I can still pass as just a young thing. My new brothers think so anyways. With the warmth in my bones my lips are dark and full, like a girls should be. That could be a problem if anyone caught me in a freshly cleaned state. Yet, I rather like it. After giving up every part of my life, I might as well be able to think of myself as a girl only in secret. I like looking this way, even if I cannot do so in the presence of anyone here. I turn to the wolf. "This is our little secret agreed?" He turns his head up from the floor and blinks at me. I suppose that is a yes.

In my reflection I notice the bruises across my body. My rump is bruising yellow from riding Mira to the Castle Black and my leg is purple from being hit repeatedly in the fights this morning. Small marks cover my arms in black and blue where I had also been stricken during the training session. So much for being a pretty girl. It`s for the best anyway. I only have to pretend here for the rest of my life.

I try and wash the leather in the water but the grime only flakes off in small pieces. I slip new underclothes on, the feel of cleanliness lightening my mood and helping the pain of my new bruises fade. I slip on another set of clothes to cover myself, just in case, and open the door as the water drains out into the night. The great wolf follows me to my room and lies next to the hearth, lit by orange flames. Instead of hopping into the straw bed, I lay down next to the wolf, bringing along my cloak. We nestle in together, cuddling and enjoying the warmth of the room. I nearly fall to sleep like that; my arms wrapped around the wolf, its head protectively lying next my own, breath tickling my hair. A sharp whistle can be heard from outside but it does not sound like the wind. A man calls a name in the night and the wolf`s head rises, ears listening.

"Is that your name, Ghost?" I ask it after hearing the man call outside. The white beast stands, leaving me cold on the floor, and looks down at me. I hear the man call once again and Ghost moves towards the door. "It seems so and it suits you," I chuckle and stand, walking to the door to let him out. "Goodnight Ghost." He inclines his head to me as if saying goodnight as well and walks out into the dark hallway toward his real master.

Author`s note:

I know Jon isn`t in either of these chapters much but I would like Gemma to get to know some of the other trainees before we dive into a relationship with Jon Snow. I want to thank nachobeats823 and nightsinshadow who have both already followed my story. I hope you know you both made my day when I saw you liked it! For others reading this please review my writing, even if you think it`s terrible! I like to know what I can improve upon and also get ideas for future chapters so please send me a message or write a review. I will really appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3 Trust

Training goes much the same for the following few weeks. I face the rest of the young men and defeat them all. All but Jon Snow. It hurts my pride that I can`t seem to beat him at the sword, although I come close many times. Once, I knocked Jon to the ground and was about to defeat him but he rolled, stood up and caught me around the throat faster than I could react. Another time I overpowered him, well almost. As I was pushing him over he flourished and let me fall straight into him. The girl in me got distracted by his scent. Even worse, the woman in me was distracted by my face pulled into his chest, by body in his arms. Only lovers experience such closeness. To further my humiliation, he then stabbed me with the wooden sword in the stomach. Much more than my pride was hurt during this fight.

After the training today, which was relatively uneventful except for Pyp breaking one of the other trainee's nose, I am told to go find some food on the other side of the wall. With the recent disappearances, Mormont is not stupid enough to send me alone, so Sam and Jon Snow are sent with me. As expected, Ghost comes along as well. Sam seems nervous and remarks that he isn`t really a fan of hunting. I feel for Sam, he is much more of a researcher than one to go for violence. It is one of the things I admire about him. Although I have been taught to sit back and learn, I feel madness creep in if I stay inside for too long. Even if outside is a cold deserted wasteland full of unwashed rude men, I have to come out and meet the freshness in the air.

We walk through gate leading to unknown territory. The only sight that welcomes us is the desert of cold white sand, shifting in the wind like white birds stuck in a whirlwind. Durandal is attached to my hip, the black leather hilt giving me comfort with only a touch. We enter a place called the Haunted Forest. I have heard about it in stories with the children who used to inhabit the forest, but have never known the forest to still be alive and thriving. I thought the forest had died in the time when the White Walkers thrived, yet it now stands before me, more real than my home in the Valley of the Moon. The only difference between the time so long ago when the wall was first built 8,000 years ago and now, is that while the children lived and protected the forest before, the Wildings lurk in the darkness now. We watch for them, taking care to cover our tracks in the snow when we enter the haunted forest. The mountain Frostfangs, looms over head, its jagged edges looking sinister against the cloudy sky. We see nothing for the first hour. Our ragged group only walks in circles among the fallen trees. The Weirwood trees are many through here and I am comforted by their godly eyes. I spy a red glint across the forest and motion my brothers to check out the area. We reach the bushes I had spied to find Winter berries growing.

"These are poison. We`re likely to kill a man if we bring these back," I say squishing a berry between my lithe fingers. In the case of Thorne that sounds tempting. . .

Jon Snow brushes past me pulling at the base of the bush. "True, but the root is a healing agent. This plant can save a man too, if you know what you`re doing," he slides a dagger from his belt and scoops a large root from beneath the white dust. Jon`s hand slides into mine before placing the root in my hand. Despite my will, I shiver at his touch; body betraying mind. "A salve made from this could take a mortally wounded man and let him live with a hard earned scar." His eyes meet mine in saying this and I`m curious about making this salve. On the next Winter Berry bush, Jon shows Sam and I where to cut the stem of the plant from the root to make sure it carries no poison. Together we collect five more roots like this when I hear a sound that makes my blood run cold in my veins. A giant roar resonates throughout the forest and a black shape makes its way in our direction. Sam and Jon run back to Castle Black, hoping to outrun the gigantic bear, but I pull my bow and an arrow from my back. I quickly pull the arrow onto the oiled string and draw it back as far as I can until my thumb rests on my cheek. Breathing in and then out I release the arrow. It spins gracefully in the air, flying true. Finally, the arrow embeds itself in the shoulder of the bear. I pull out another and release it the same way; it strikes the bear in the neck but does not stop the beast from barreling towards me. In a moment the bear will be upon me and I run North, away from Castle Black. The bear follows, breaking trees in its path, yet still gaining on me every second. My foot sinks in the white dust and I tumble to the ground. Cursing, I roll away, pulling Duranal free from its sheath. The bear is upon me, spitting in my face, its angry roar ringing in my ears. As it leans near to take a bite, I stick my sword out and stab the raging beast. It recoils, but becomes angrier with the new damage. A black paw raises and strikes me before I can comprehend the situation. It sends me flying and rolling in a tumble of blood and leaves from a tree I have collided with. Teeth bared, the bear crawls triumphantly towards my useless body, ready for its supper. A loud growl erupts seemingly from all around me and a white wolf leaps at the black bear, teeth tearing into its neck.

The bear howls in pain, blood leaking from the new wound. Ghost attacks its side pulling it down with sheer force while the bear tries batting at the huge wolf. My friend shows no sign of moving away from the bear. I see another figure with Ghost. A man with dark tresses attacks the bear and with one swing he slits the animal`s throat. The giant black beast collapses, his life`s blood pouring out of his neck. Where has the man gone? I search for him worried he may be in trouble. Jon comes from nowhere hands feeling at my neck for a steady pulse. He looks down at something with a worried look in his eyes. They are so like chocolate. A warm brown, so like a melting pot of the sweet elixir, is the color of those pretty eyes. He lifts me up into strong arms and mentions something about going to see a steward of the Knight`s Watch known for his healing powers; Maester Aemon. I protest, saying that I could care for my own wounds. Jon looks at me doubtfully and he shares a look with Sam.

"You can`t take me to them. The others can`t find out. If they know my secret, the Maester would be smarter to not heal me at all…" I say. I don`t want to tell them about my identity but I can feel the blood rushing from my body. I will die if something is not done about this wound. Jon reads my expression and sighs, unsure of what action to take.

"I think we can come up with a temporary bandage, Glenn," Sam chips in suddenly. He nods for Jon to set me back down next to a tree and pulls out the Winter Berry root and a small flask. "I read a book on healing herbs and their uses not so long ago. This root was particularly interesting. It numbs the pain and increases the wounded`s capability of healing. Your skin will be back together in no time however we don`t have all ingredients to the salve just yet, so these will have to do." I nod trusting Sam. He is the best hope I have for the moment. He pulls back the shredded leather on my side and begins cutting the root up over the wound. He lies some of the chopped parts over the wound and opens the flask. I can smell the pungent alcohol immediately. Sam pours the liquid over my wound in a slow manner. I writhe against the cold dust around me, holding back a scream. Ghost trots over and lies his head against mine, trying to comfort me. His muzzle is covered in black blood from the bear. Finally, Sam wraps a long piece of cloth around my waist, tight enough to stop most of the blood flow.

Jon wraps an arm underneath my shoulders, helping me walk back to the Night`s Watch. The world seems to spin around me but I manage to keep my head up; we have to look somewhat normal walking back into the grounds. We tread through the thick dust, the wind`s cold hands trying to push us over. When the four of us finally make it to the gate, the watchman looks at my face in alarm.

"It`s nothing to worry about, the pansy`s been sick since we killed the bear. I think the sight of all that blood made him sick," Jon offers, and the man`s expression fades into one of hilarity. Sam mentions something about going back to the forest and getting the bear. I don`t follow his words though, the rest of conversation is eaten by the noise of the wind. Jon slowly drags me back to my tower and Ghost follows close behind. We make it inside the keep, safe from the perilous wind. Sam trails in behind, with ice matting his beard. Jon lifts me completely into his arms now, so it`s easier to carry me up the flight of stairs. My eye sight gets worse; I see only the torch that Sam carries, leading us up the stairs. I slip out of consciousness with Danny`s face in my mind. We may see each other sooner than planned.

. . . .

Jon

Glenn`s eyes close when we reach the door of her room, and panic rises in my chest at the possibility that the girl disguised as a boy may die. Sam runs out of the room, in search of the ingredients we will need. Ghost jumps on the hay bed, trying to cuddle Glenn. He licks her face and whimpers. Fire from the hearth lights her face making Glenn look truly like a girl. She`s pale, whiter than the snow outside due to the loss of blood, yet the shadows make her hair look longer. It reaches to her shoulders almost, the dark strands shining in the firelight. Her lashes look long against her round cheeks, they cast shadows on her face. I trace a finger down her cheek to her little chin and wonder why she would disguise herself as a man only to join the Night`s Watch? Sam and I have been debating whether or not Glenn was a man or not; Glenn fought very well and rode here by herself, things most women would never consider doing. I suppose Glenn could be an exception from the typical woman, like Arya, but Glenn`s passion for fighting wasn`t the same as Arya`s. Arya wanted to fight and be rid of any womanly quality she possessed. Arya would never miss being a lady. Glenn seemed to be unsure of the Night`s Watch. I have a feeling this girl was not entirely ready to give up her life or femininity when she came here. I won`t pretend to have given up my family either. I worry for father every night and hope the tension between him and the Lannisters will cease. I wish to be with Bran now that he has awoke after the fall and seemingly come back from the dead. I wish to be home at Winterfell with the people I love, not in this cold dark wasteland full of men just the same. We have that much in common, Glenn and I.

Sam rushes in the room, out of breath, and begins pulling leaves and vials from his pockets in a hurried fashion. He assembles them in a bowl and begins crushing up a root with a small dagger. He throws the roots in with the other items and crushes them together with a stone pestle. He then mixes in a very thick clear substance that thickens the salve. We pull back Glenn`s coat, making sure her heartbeat is still going. It is faint when I press my hand to the soft skin underneath her chin. The wound has bled through the strip of fabric, but it does not spurt out as before. I take my canteen full of water and wash the wound a bit, riding the gash of the used roots and leaves. She winces in her sleep, uttering a name I can`t understand. Sam rubs a bit of the salve on her wound, his chubby face starting to look a bit green. He hands me a needle and thin wire thread with shaking hands.

"It`s only a bit of blood Sam," I say, pinching the skin together and making the first stitch the way father had taught Robb and I years ago. Sam`s eyes are the widest I`ve seen them and he struggles to look away from Glenn`s gaping wound. I try not to focus on the slippery blood and continue to sew the skin together. After 46 stitches, the wound is closed. We wash the skin once again, Glenn`s belly turning a bright angry red, especially around the stiches. Sam rubs more salve over them and wraps her in a cloth once more. Glenn seems alright for the moment so I turn to go and fetch the bear.

I call for Ghost but he doesn`t rise from the hay. The direwolf whimpers, as if he wants to stay with the girl, but decides better. He licks her hand gently and leaps from the bed, following me out into the dark halls. My feet know the way down the steps without a torch. I go to the stalls to fetch a horse and grab a rope to tie the bear up with. Riding fast and hard I lurch beyond the gates and into the haunted forest. Our trails have been covered by snow already, yet I know where we left the bear. When the bear is in sight I can make out the features of a wolf pack tearing at the bear. Ghost scares the wolves away and I tie the bear to the horse, guiding the horse out of the forest slowly. This horse is very large and is used to pulling heavy things, so we leave the forest with good time and make it back to Castle Black quickly. A bloody streak trails behind us as we go. I drop the great bear behind the dining hall, sad that this task is not over. With my dagger, I cut the skin from the beast and remove the head, then split the meat from the bone and throw the meat in a bucket. Three Fingered Hobb, the cook, seems impressed at my handiwork. I should be as well, since I`ve never skinned an animal this huge, yet I worry for Glenn. I trust Sam, but fear that she may already be too weak from blood loss to survive. Hobb and I dispose of the bones and head. He runs off with the meat saying that he may use it tomorrow, and I take the freshly cleaned pelt for a trophy. I wash the blood covering my body in the cold snow. Before I check on Glenn I hang the pelt in my room to dry out.

When I return to the weakened girl, Sam has her by the fire wrapped in a blanket cocoon. Ghost leaves my side to lay next to her and curls close as if he is trying to keep her warm. I spy her bloodied cloak lying on the bed and walk towards it.

"Someone should wash that, it`s soaked through with blood," Sam says noticing my interest in it. I nod agreeing with him. As I go to leave and wash the cloak, Sam stops me in my tracks. "Should we ask her when she wakes? I don`t want to betray her secret to the Lord Commander but she can`t get hurt like this again if she hopes not to get caught," he says, worry crossing his face.

"I agree, though I imagine she will want to talk with us about her secret when she is awake. From her muttering in the forest, it seemed like she knew that we had figured out she was no man." Sam nods in agreement and with that I make my way to the wash tub, closing the thick door behind me.

. . . .

Gemma

It seems forever that I float in the darkness. The place is unfamiliar, but without pain, and I do the back stroke in the waves of shadow caressing my body. I hear voices on occasion, but I can`t understand what they say in their hushed tones. I keep floating along in the sea of darkness, the current carrying me far away. My brother, Eli, would love to be here swimming with me. The angel haired boy could have been one of the Koi themselves in the creek at home he swam so much. I bet his hair would glisten gold in the moonlight like the Koi did. "The moon casts spells on people, Gemma," mother would say. The Valley of the Moon is a magical place after all. Flowers bloom exotic colors in the night; fish glow beneath the water; Bees make the most succulent honey in all of Westeros. Even Dragon pears grow in the odd climate, needing the mixture of cold and warm air to properly develop. Our decent is one of the poorer families from the first men in terms of wealth, yet, the land we farm yields rare pleasures and has been undisturbed for thousands of years by the surrounding people. Some say that a man walks in the Valley with bloodlust but sees the moon rise over the falls and forgets greed altogether to enjoy the splendor of the world. It`s never been true for me; I`ve been angry and in a fighting mood loads of times but that lead me to take up the sword. When some fisherman`s son bullied me I fought back, with the teachings of Daniel. But how will he help me now? He`s gone; soul wandering the north searching for a body that lies buried in the Valley of the Moon. In the throes of danger I expected his specter to show itself. For Danny to let me know he`s still here, trying to get home. He has yet to arrive.

The voices seem closer than before and a yellow light shines in the distance. The shadows lift me to it, their hands pushing me towards the light. Back in the room, my vision is blurred but I can make out a fire and feel the warmth on my cheeks. When I see clearly, two men are sitting in front of me with tight lips and worried eyes. Sam seems to relax into the wall when I sit up with them. Jon stares cryptically with an unreadable expression, as per usual. Silence fall around us, the exception being the crackle of the fire and my strained breaths. It is Sam who breaks through the uncomfortable emptiness.

"I was very worried if you were going to live for a moment there, Glenn," he remarks with a smile. I feel a warmth grow in my heart at the sudden show of concern; I don`t know either of the boys well but they have to care for me to worry as it seems they have. Jon offers a small smile as well, though he refuses to meet my eyes.

"I`m not sure what or how you did it, but I owe the both of you much more than gratitude for saving me today," I say slowly. I can`t find words enough to express my thanks but I try. "Thank you."

Jon bats away my thanks, and pursues the question haunting his eyes. "Why are you hiding your identity, Glenn? There`s been talk since you arrived saying that you must be a girl. Yet, you surprise the men here by travelling alone and wielding a sword. Why?" He asks, looking almost angry. I`m not entirely sure how to answer him, or if I even want to. After both his and Sam`s actions today, I know they deserve an answer. I let the fire crackle for a long while, trying to put words together.

"You deserve to know the truth after saving my life today, but I beg you to respect that it pains me to talk about some of it. I hope you don`t mind if I pass over some details," I say fingers scratching at my prickly hair. The men nod, waiting to hear my excuse. "My brother was killed about nine months ago when travelling with my grandfather to the North. They were searching for artifacts from the otherworldly clans, headed for the Fist of the First Men with a group of men. When my grandfather and brother returned, they were dead. Men of the Knight`s Watch found them slain by foreign blades made from metals unknown by even our finest blacksmiths. I waited around home hoping time could heal my family`s wounds, but I became impatient. I made a promise to my younger brother that I would find out what happened to Danny and left home to avoid being sold off to some man I have never met before. I vowed to become a skilled warrior, much like Danny was, and take vengeance on those who took his life. The Knight`s Watch seemed the best way to find out," I finish, staring each of them in the face. They seem unsure of what to say, not expecting me to divulge so much information.

"What`s your real name?" Sam questions. I hesitate; this was the part I wanted to tread lightly over. I decide that I can trust the two men. If they were going to tell the Lord Commander I was no man they would have done so already.

"I am Gemma Amador, granddaughter of the great navigator Lord Montaigne Amador of the Valley of the Moon," I say praying they react well. Sam`s eyes widen yet it is Jon that speaks up.

"My Uncle mentioned his passing before he went missing beyond the Wall," he says deep in thought.

"Which one is your Uncle?" I ask, having not heard this story. Jon stares as if I should know.

"Benjen Stark," he replies still looking at me funny. My eyes crinkle in confusion.

"If you're a Stark, how come they call you Jon Snow?" Sam looks away at my question as if I might be prying into tremulous territory from Jon`s past.

"She may be the only one here who hasn`t come to the conclusion," Jon says, irritation shown in the roll of his eyes. I`ve never seen him with such an attitude, even with Ser Allistor. "I am Eddard Stark`s bastard son." Snow must be the name for bastard`s of Winterfell then, though I have no idea of the meaning of the word. I try to stand then, pushing up with my arms. Blinding white pain washes over me, and I fall back onto the stone in a heap. The whole left side of my body pulsates in agony, like a pond that can feel a ripple tearing through it. The boys rush to my side asking what hurts, but I can utter no reply in hiding my tears. Slowly the pain settles to a dull ache and I try to focus on Sam and Jon around me rushing around, trying to find an elixir to ease the pain. Finally, Sam holds a bottle of sweet milk to my mouth.

"I didn`t want to use Milk of the Poppy," he sighs patting Ghost on the head. The world spins again, two kind faces blurring around me. A pair of arms wraps around my frame, lifting me from the ground with grace. I feel the soft hay beneath my fingers and a warm throw pulled over my body. Rough fingers move hair from my face and trace my cheeks, trying to comfort me. Footsteps echo as one man leaves the room to retrieve something, but one lingers behind. Jon Snow is close enough that his hot breath stirs my hair. I turn my head towards his own, his soft eyes blurring in my dizziness. His thumb moves down my cheek again, running over my chin and parting my lips. The boy moves towards me, our faces close enough for a kiss. His thumb moves upward, tracing the edges of my mouth as if in a trance. His dark eyes catch my own and for a moment I think he will come even closer. Jon looks away from me, thinking better of a rash action, and stands to walk briskly out of the room.

"Jon," I call out at him. The handsome boy looks back at me with a sad expression on his face. "Thank you." His eyes narrow questioningly but he nods and turns to leave, closing the door behind him. Even though Ghost lies next to me and my body fades into a numb puddle, Jon Snow`s absence leaves me with a sad emptiness. The world falls away and I enter another dreamless sleep.

Author`s Note

Whew! Lots of action in this chapter, and I`m happy to say lots of Jon too. I didn`t mention this before but I`m basing this story more on the books even though the show stays pretty true to the books. Tell me what you think about this chapter and if you want more of Jon`s point of view. I could use some ideas, it`s funny how fast I ran out of them so if you have anything you would like to see in the future I`ll see what I can do to incorporate it. Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4 The Wall

I don`t own Game of Thrones!

Gemma

After two days the Milk of the Poppy runs through my system and I wake to Ghost`s warm fur. My side has a dull ache but it is tolerable compared to other dilemmas that bother me in the night. I remember when Jon and I last parted; did that really happen? He nearly kissed me in those brief moments. With the both of us sworn to the Night`s Watch, I shouldn`t think of him in such a way, yet the woman in me can`t get him out of my mind. I could have just leaned forward and our mouths would have molded into one. I try to imagine his taste; if Jon`s mouth would be sweet or more like his woody scent. I imagine he has kissed many girls being so handsome; I would seem inexperienced compared to him. The only boy I`ve ever kissed in a romantic fashion was a smelly farm hand with a sloppy mouth and hands that wandered. I regret giving my first kiss to a boy like that with no honor or intelligence, even if my rebellion was thrilling for a time. Jon had some kind of respect for me; it was shown in every word he spoke about me. I could hear him and Sam talking to the other boys from the tower now, swearing that my fever was life threatening before our brothers, protecting me from prying eyes. Therefore his intentions should be filled with honor, if the brief romantic moment really happened. I lay in the hay for an hour like a silly pubescent girl, wishing Jon could be with me. Footsteps echo down the hall, and I pray it is him. With a knock a boy enters the doorway, eyes showing happiness at my presence, though I cannot say the same for my friend. Sam makes sure I am doing better and hands me a wineskin full of sweet water.

Sam says he must call for Lord Mormont; apparently the Lord Commander wanted to speak with me about my "fever" and rushes out of the room. The great man arrives looking large and unreadable in the usual black cloak of bear fur. When he enters my room he looks around as if the place seems somewhat unfamiliar to him. With a wave he dismisses Sam. My friend looks at me in worry. I smile for him before Sam leaves. My voice shakes with nervousness when I address the Lord Commander.

"You`ve been out for a few days Glenn, and missed at your post," he says pulling a chair from the corner, the wood squeaking slightly as he places himself in it. "Your friends seem very worried about your health the past three days. Measter Aemon himself questioned if you were going to live after coming to see you, claiming your_ fever_ to be quite high, but that is what I came here to talk to you about." I fear for my identity now, knowing he will say something about it. I realize he will tell everyone that I`m a girl and I`ll be forced to live as if I were a shadow among my family, with no truth about Danny. I should just jump from the window now at the future I will have to face by returning to Lanka`s Falls. Lord Mormont startles me with his words. "I`ve been impressed with your fighting Glenn: you may be small but you move quickly and strike hard despite your small stature. It`s quite obvious you can take care of yourself. Jon mentioned upon your return that the bear you caught would have fallen earlier if it had not been in such a rage. He said you had done most of the work by the time he got to the bear, Jon only caught it by surprise. Now this" he pauses, "_fever _you have, strikes you suddenly and brings you almost to death, but here you sit, alive and well as I can see. Measter Aemon was here only a day ago saying that only time would tell if you lived or died. He has heard of your waking, and we both agree that your work was brave and your surprising recovery strong. Yet, I still have half a mind to send you back home, wherever it may be. The Night`s Watch is no place for one like you." Tears gather at my eyes, though I wish my Lord Commander to not see them and collect my emotions for a second.

Lord Mormont reads my expression and sighs. "However, I won`t remove you from this place, especially if you end up taking your vows. You have a strength in you that suits the Night`s Watch; We need more men like you. I have taken no vow to keep those like you out of the Watch and you are deserving of this place. But I warn you, if anyone knows about your secret there will be no one to protect you other than yourself, and you will do little to the groups of men who lack honor. I do not need to explain what many dangers you could unleash from just your brothers, let alone beyond the Wall. You may still leave Glenn, if you wish to," the man finishes looking at me in earnest, as he would prefer me be safe and leave the Night`s Watch. I think carefully before I provide an answer.

"I am grateful for your kindness Ser, but I have already made my home here. The place you wish me to return to is no longer hospitable." I say with hesitation. "I wish to protect the realm for the safety of my family and the others who need our protection." He stares at me for a long time with a growing sadness.

"So be it then." The Lord Commander stands and walks across the room to the door putting his hand on the latch. "Take care of that scratch Glenn, and return when you feel able, but only then." With that, the stern man leaves me reeling in the wake of his words.

Sam bursts in after, asking what the man wanted. I explain his kindness as Jon rushes up asking questions as Sam had. The three of us sit in silence when I have finally caught them both up. Ghost nuzzles against me waking from his slumber. He trots over to Jon and licks his face trying to get him to smile. Jon doesn`t budge and looks at me with serious eyes.

"He`s right you know," Jon mutters.

"About what," I reply softly, rubbing my side gingerly. Jon`s eyes still bore into my own.

"You should go home, you don`t belong here Gemma."

"I have a right to be here, same as you."

"You're going to get hurt if you stay, you could get killed so easily taking the black." Jon says eyes pleading with my own.

"I can fight just as good as you Jon, if not better! And if I leave here where do I have to go? My home is here!" I rise from the bed yelling now, tottering on two unsteady legs, hands echoing my anger at his insult. "You could die same as me, same as anyone!" Jon rises from his place on the ground, rage changing his handsome features. He raises a finger and opens his mouth as if he wants to say more. My side aches, pulsating through my body. Sam struggles to get up from the floor, pushing with his arms. I feel my legs buckle once again but catch myself on the bed, grasping it desperately in my attempt to not fall to the floor. Sam lurches forward to catch me but is too slow. Jon slips an arm underneath my frame and keeps my skull from crashing apart on the stone. He stares with soft eyes now and pulls me close into his arms. We are closer now that when we first fought, than we ever have been, cheeks pressed together in a distressed embrace. He cradles me against him hard then lifts me to the bed. Jon turns and nearly runs from the room. Sam looks at me with mouth agape and eyes startled. I place my hand across the bandage in an effort to sooth the pain growing there. It makes no difference.

"What was that?" Sam says. I shake my head and hold up a hand, wishing my friend to stop. He looks at me with a sad gaze, I can tell Sam didn`t like to be put out of whatever is or isn`t between Jon and I. We are friends, brothers of the Night`s Watch.

"Sorry Sam," I say trying to be apologetic. "I don`t really know what`s happening either." He looks away quickly then gains bravery before speaking.

"I won`t pretend to know much about these things or know whatever has happened between the two of you, but I can see that Jon cares for you, very much so." I try to interrupt him, but Sam holds up a finger to stop me. "I care about you too Gemma, and honestly, many of the other brothers have been asking about you, but the Night`s Watch wasn`t made to make friends, we both know that. You may be a girl but you fight like a well-trained lord, maybe better. Just as you said to me, if the Night`s Watch has a place for me, it certainly has a place for you, no matter who you are."

. . . .

With time the pain fades away leaving the yellow-blue stain of a bruise around a jagged cut. Sam and Jon are constantly in and out of my room, watching the healing of my wound but also guarding me. Jon seems moody as ever so I try and converse with Sam as much as possible. The two keep spreading lies around the camp saying I have a fever, yet I still hear Ser Allistor Thorne raging outside the keep on certain days, yelling for my presence. I have no need to worry, he is too afraid of the Lord Commander`s warning to come and yell to my face. After a week of rest, I can wait no longer in my room. I leave the tower to head to training. With each step my side prickles in slight pain and I receive angry glares from my brothers upon my return to the training area.

"Have a nice nap did you boy? I was convinced you would die of the fever but here you are all rested. I think we all could have used a good nap. . . To hell with the realm let the Wildings take it, the Night`s Watch needs a rest!" Allistor taunts, spitting in my direction. He calls a few of the boys over, handing them real steel swords. They don thin cube like armor and toss me some as well. I pull it over my head, glad for Durandal at my hip. "Since Princess Glenn has graced us with his presence and is feeling well and strong, he should be able to take the lot of you eh?" With that the Ser stands back and motions for the three unfamiliar boys to attack. I pull Durandal from its sheath but it falls from my hand and my side lurches into pain once again.

The men come at me with swords raised and hit at my sides with no mercy, but they have no sense to kick away my sword or they think I am incapable of wielding it. I swipe with it wildly, bashing on opponent in an armored chest. He retreats and then comes back, hitting harder. I hear raised voices coming close and in a moment the attacking boys are nocked flat and Jon is pulling me up. I am happy to say it is not him shouting at Thorne, but Bowen Marsh, fighting for my health as well. Jon loops an arm underneath my own and walks with me away from the training arena towards the tower. Once inside, Jon pulls me up into his arms again, and climbs the steps.

"I could have taken that beating Jon," I whisper against his chest.

"For what reason? Your pride? Honor? Or do you just wish for death?" He reaches the top of the stairs, Ghost on his heels. Once in my room he lays me on the bed with shaking hands. "There`s no use in me looking out for you if you insist on hurting yourself, Gemma." He pulls up the leather of my coverlet and removes the bandages around my waist. He takes a sigh of relief at the sight of the wound.

"Is it open?" I inquire straining for a better look.

"No, you just added a few more bruises." He gives Ghost a pet. "Maybe you should wash it Gemma."

"A bath? I`m sure it needs it," I say running my fingers up the line of stitches. I try to rise from the bed, but manage to only fall back. I look at him, too embarrassed to ask for help. Jon lends me his shoulder and drags me up the stairs to the room with the great stone bath. He pulls the rope and lets the water tumble into the basin while steam clouds the room with pleasant humidity. Ghost lies in his usual corner with fresh underclothes in his mouth. I slide towards the tub and when it is nearly full, Jon pulls the rope again, the water coming to a halt. I raise my arm trying to reach the tie at my side. I can get most of them but the lowest tie makes my arm sting in pain when I reach for it. This is so unlike this morning when I could dress myself with minimal pain. I ask Jon if he would undo the bottom tie for me. He gives a great sigh, running a hand over his mouth. Jon kneels next to me and leans over my body, hands reached out to undo the knot. With a simple pull of a string I am loose in the leather, the top no longer constricting my breasts. Jon looks away, trying not to dishonor me with a glance.

"Do you need anything else?" Jon asks, his eyes darting to the ceiling with a nervous glance. With his reaction already, I feel my face heating, not sure how to ask if he can do the rest. I feel disgusting for asking Jon to do this, but if just stretching my arm and side aches, leaning down will sting far worse.

"I can`t reach the, the bottom, it hurts to stretch that far, I`m so sorry. I could just go in with-" I stammer before Jon places a hand over my mouth.

"Stop. Talking," he says though his eyes express no anger. They search my own with an emotion I can`t quite place. Jon takes his hand from my face but not before dragging his fingers over my mouth. With nimble hands the man leans down to undo the trousers and he pulls them off. Next he helps me with my leather coverlet and pulls it off, leaving me in a roomy white shirt and pants that fall only to my knees. Without the steam clouding around us Jon would see everything through the thin fabric; he may still anyways from how close we sit to the other. I lay on the cold stone floor with Jon leaning over me, the coverlet still in his hands. Ghost shifts behind us, the noise tearing Jon away from my stare. He helps me up and walks me toward the large tub. I feel a sting in my side as I move but try not to show it. I wrap my arms fully around Jon`s neck and he places me in the tub until my feet reach the bottom and I can sit on the ridge in the water. I cover myself in the water knowing my breasts are showing. He turns away quickly and shuts the door behind him, leaving only Ghost for company.

. . . .

Jon

Outside the door I sweat in nervous panic. Gods, Gemma is beautiful. With her around I will give up my oath before I`ve even made it. Just in the quick brush of my fingers against her hip I could tell that her skin was so soft, like firm silk. Her shirt did nothing to hide the curve of her breasts in the steam of the room and the pale skin on her legs glistened in the torchlight. Her pretty face looked so desperate and the way her dark lips moved when she talked in the room. . . if she kept talking I wouldn`t have been able to control myself. Hell, I barely can now: It takes all my will to stay outside of the room even now. If I start to imagine what she might have felt like I _will_ go back in there. I crouch outside the room, head in my hands while the voice in my head, sounding oddly like my father, tries to calm me down. Ned Stark`s voice tells me to stay put and protect her honor as well as my own. I imagine the child we could have, the life it would inherit as a Snow. It is no life for anyone, I should know. I`m starting to feel something for this girl, although I don`t know her well. Gemma`s bravery, her strength, the sad but determined way she talked about her brother, these parts of her draw me to Gemma like a cold dog to the hearth. Ever since I first really knew she was a woman, I can`t help but think of her beauty. I love her soft face, the way her lips part when she breathes in a fight, how her eyes alight with fierce determination even as she is defeated. Gemma strikes me somewhere deep, where I never wanted to feel anything except for my family. I may feel this way because she is the first woman to get so close to me, I fear that it could be more. If I let myself want her, I will care more for Gemma in a way I`ve never wanted to care for anyone. I hear a voice from inside the bathing room and move to knock on the door. She bids me to enter and I see her lying face down on the stone floor, half of her still in the bath. Ghost is standing over her trying to pull her out. I run over to them and pull her out of the steamy bath. Gemma clutches to me sobbing against my leather vest.

Ghost runs ahead of me pushing the door to Gemma`s room open and I lie her on the hay bed wrapping her a woven blanket. She reaches for me, wanting my shoulder to cry against. We stay like that seemingly forever with Gemma`s small body shaking in my arms my fingers in her hair trying to calm her heightened state. I hear her squeak against my shoulder, trying to say something. Reluctantly, I make distance between us.

"I didn`t want you to come and get me, I wanted to get out by myself," she sobs looking up at me. I look at her quizzically.

"There`s no shame I asking for help with a would like you have Gemma," I say softly. She raises a hand and wipes her face a bit."

"I don`t want you upset with me, I could tell you were uncomfortable in there. I didn`t want you to be upset." Gemma seems so pathetic, all to make sure I`m not upset I feel anger at myself growing in my belly.

"Don`t make the mistake of thinking my anger is towards you, it`s towards myself usually," I say forcing eye contact between the two of us.

"You weren't sorry to help me in there then?" She questions, the tears stopped now and curiosity taking over her face.

"Ay, I want to help. It would make things easier if I could keep myself in check though," I laugh a bit at that and she stares, a smile breaking out on her face. Before I can react Gemma hugs me around the neck. At the sudden spring of emotion she shows I can`t help myself. I lean down and kiss the sweet girl`s temple and hold her close, breathing the beautiful girl`s alluring scent. I set her down on the hay and brush a hand over her wounded side. The bones underneath her skin still seem to be set from when Measter Aemon pushed them back into place a few days ago. When I gently graze my hand across her belly, I find she welcomes my touch, much to my surprise. As quick as I had put it on her, I remove my hand, lest it stray.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, presuming the hour is getting late. She nods eagerly, probably starving.

. . . .

Gemma

It is another fortnight before I am able to leave the tower and perform duties around Castle Black. Measter Aemon has said that I should stay away from the training area and clean out the armory usually if I`m not helping Hobb cook throughout the day. Eventually, I am asked to scout from the Wall. I`ve been up on the wall before with its run down little forts and the white dust nearly blowing me off the top of the Wall. I don`t look forward to going back up, yet it has to be done. I step into the dark confines of the great box before the cables pull me up into the sky. It is freezing, even underneath my thick cloak. I huddle within the deer fur trying to find warmth while the box sways gently in the wind. Within the pocket of my leather breeches I finger the last of my dragon pears. The last physical proof of my childhood. Underneath my cloak, I pull out the fruit. Its rough skin feels good in my fingers, and its smell reminds me of better days. I don`t want to eat it yet; it will soon be a distant memory and should be savored. As I near the top of the wall, I slip the fruit back into my pocket to erase the temptation. I pull the doors closest to the wall open and step out into the icy darkness. The white dust whirls around me, pulling at my limbs and clothes. If I walk over to the edge, I can see the never ending world beyond the Wall. The Haunted Forest moves as if alive hundreds of feet below me; like worms wiggling in white cold sand. I find little shelter in a small wooden fort and gather close to the fire pit at the center. I keep my eyes toward the empty horizon beyond the Wall.

My mind wanders to the warm walls of my home. I should write mother to see how she is fairing. Maybe she will beg me to return home, even though she has no idea where I am in the world. I could be on the other side of the sea for all she knows. I wonder if father even cares that I have left. He may be too busy teaching Eli archery and swordplay and beekeeping and all the other things father refused to teach me. I remember how father struck me when I showed him how well I could shoot an arrow. Grandfather seemed proud that I was a better shot than even Danny at only seven. He said I should bet against some of his men in an archery contest; I would make some gold. Father, on the other hand, left a stinging black bruise on my cheek, and broke the bow Danny had made for me. I made a new one with help from Grandfather, but father`s disapproval etched itself into me. He said no lady should learn those things, only how to be pretty and sew and such. It made sense after why mother always was the perfect lady around father. He loved her, but mother knew he would not permit her to act otherwise. Danny never wanted that for me, he insisted that I know how to fight, how to take care of myself. Danny and Eli would sabotage any suitor visits for me so father could never sell me off. Without Danny to teach me and keep the suitors away, I would never last at Lanka`s Falls. A great white wolf suddenly lurches through the doorway, pouncing on me and licking at my face. I hug Ghost as he sits next to me. A shadow crosses the doorway.

Jon smiles down at the two of us as I pet Ghost`s massive face. "So they sent you up here then?" I nod at him as he sits next to the fire, trying to warm his hands. "Grenn and Pyp are towards the East side, you should go visit them tonight. They`ve been asking about you," he mentions giving Ghost a pat. We sit in silence for a bit, enjoying the fire. Jon`s face changes as if he`s contemplating an issue in his head. He seems troubled from the sad look shifting in his brown eyes.

"Want to try something?" I say reaching into my pocket. I pull out the scaly pear and Jon`s face wrinkles in confusion. I peel back a large chunk of the skin revealing the white-blue meat of the pear. I hand the oversized fruit to Jon.

"What is that thing?" He asks with a grimace as if he`s not sure it`s edible. "You`re not trying to poison me are you Gemma?" Jon smiles slightly.

"No, no. Just try it," I laugh at him. He sniffs at the pear with reluctance, then takes a small bite. Jon melts back against the wood of the fort and his eyes roll up in his head with a content smile crossing his face.

"I`ll ask you again, what _is _that?" His cheeks brighten with a sudden heat from the fruit.

"It`s a Dragon Pear. They grow in the Valley," I say laughing at his face lit up from the warmth of the fruit.

"I`ve heard of those. How have you kept them ripe for so long?"

"The skin on them is so thick and tough it protects them from the harshest weather; the cold has kept it ripe," I answer. Jon takes a bigger bite of the fruit, the juice running into his beard.

"Gods, it tastes like sweet fire going down my throat. How many did you bring?" He asks flashing a small smile.

"That was the last one," I answer cuddling on Ghost. Jon`s smile dies and he hands the pear back to me.

"Have the rest, it may be the last memory you make of your home, Gemma," he says.

"Then we can share it," I laugh at his kindness. "I warn you though it has the same effect as summer wine. You may end up telling me all your secrets Jon Snow." I take a bite and let the fire drift over my body, my head feeling woozy already. Jon pulls me back to the side of the fort so I am next to him, our elbows touching. Ghost rests his head on Jon`s leg, trying to fit between us as if he could fit on our laps like some tiny runt dog. I hand Jon the pear and rest my head against his shoulder.

"I got a letter today," Jon blurts his face becoming solemn again looking down at the large fruit. "King Robert is dead and the Lannisters. . . they, took father captive calling him a traitor to the realm." I stare in shock, suddenly understanding his extreme mood changes today. "My brother, Robb, is gathering loyal men for war against the Lannisters. I don`t know if I can stay here knowing that they need me." He looks at me as if looking for advice. I sit thinking on how exactly to help Jon.

"If Robb is anything like you Jon, he can outsmart the Lannisters. And there are many people loyal to the Starks, your brother will have plenty of soldiers." I pause for a minute unsure if I should say the next words. "There are creatures gathering beyond the Wall worse than what your brother will face: The Night`s Watch needs you here to help guard the entire realm against whatever`s out there. You`re the best swordsman out of all the trainees and your soon to be sworn to the Night`s Watch for good. They need you here." I leave the words I want to say out even if_ I_ want him to stay here by my side. "I know the feeling of wanting to protect your family but you won`t make that much of a difference to a force like the Lannisters. Here on the Wall you have the potential to lead and be a great ranger, Jon. I know it." He hugs me then. It is a desperate hug that makes my insides warm even more so that the Dragon Pear. I feel a small wetness against my cheek as if Jon may be crying slightly. In this flustered moment I do the only that I can think of; the thing that I`ve been trying not to think about since I first met Jon in the training arena. I place my hands on his face and place my lips against his own. I move them gently and when he fails to react I pull away, praying I didn`t make things even worse. I expect Jon to be angry but instead he loops his arm around my back and pulls me back into a warm embrace. His lips mold to mine slow but hungry. We fall to the stone his hand pushing into my hair, Jon`s body pressed close to my own. I am vaguely aware of Ghost moving away quickly at our sudden fall, but I am too entwined to Jon. I whimper against his mouth when his teeth gently graze my bottom lip. He pulls against it and comes back for more which causes me to grab his arm and emit another groan. When Jon finally takes a breath, I curl up beneath him.

"I`m sorry. I just wanted you to feel better," I say smiling up at him.

Jon laughs slightly at that. "You succeeded," he mutters kissing my cheek. I kiss him again, unable to stay away from his mouth and I catch his soft lower lip in my teeth gently and graze it with my tongue. He groans and kisses harder, pushing me into the stone. His hands trace my sides and he pushes himself onto me. My side aches with a slight pain, but I ignore it. He draws back from me suddenly. "We should slow down before I can`t stop," Jon whispers and we push ourselves into a sitting position. The clouds settle in my mind and a question forms.

"Jon, does your last name mean anything up here in the north?" He looks at me then as if I am an idiot and lets out a good careless laugh, the best I`ve heard from Jon so far. He grabs a fistful of the white dust from the doorway and holds it too my face. "This is _snow_ Gemma," he says laughing harder. I sit with my mouth open in disbelief feeling ashamed.

"Why would the Starks choose something so terribly cold and uncomfortable as a _name_?" I say, my voice rising from the embarrassment.

"Bastards are a bad thing as well; it makes sense they should grace them with a cold name," he mentions letting out a sad sigh.

"If that were true Jon Snow, you have been jilted. A man like you is worthy of a King`s honor." Jon sits back staring at me.

"Who needs a king`s honor when I can be stuck here with a girl as beautiful as you Gemma?" He leans over and kisses me again. "We should do some rounds. Maybe you can visit Grenn and Pyp?" Jon says with a smile. We walk out into the billowing snow, trading off bites of the dragon pear with Ghost trailing at our heels.


	5. Chapter 5 Into the Flames

Gemma

I am forever consumed by white hot flames. They smolder gently inside me as I look across the dining table, when his brown eyes meet mine or we meet each other in passing. As we stare, fiery hands outstretch in longing towards the other, invisible to everyone else. The palms touch gracefully, in an embrace grateful for the blind eyes of the grimy men around us. As fast as they meet, the hands retreat just when we look away from the other. I try to stare everywhere else but _him_ and push back my urges. They must stay hidden in their dark cave until the night is silent and empty of men. It takes all my will to avoid his dark gaze to my far right, but still I am pulled back to Jon Snow. He calls to me without a word though I know I cannot abide by his silent wishes. I drink a class of warm wine though it tastes like cold dry sand and does nothing for my thirst. The wine is frozen and dull compared to the fire that blazes on the other side of my skin, engulfing me and my will in its wake. I cannot take this hall anymore. The noise is muffled in my ears and I meekly wave goodnight to my companions around the table.

A cold wind blows against me in the frigid night air and it cools my sweltering heat. There is nothing for me to do but wait in the tower, he will leave the hall soon. I lay on my hay bed, the sickness of love causing my world to spin. The iron door squeaks when the tall boy enters the room but only after he secures the latch behind him and checks the window does he come to me. The young knight pulls me to him in a corner where no one would see us and moans against my mouth. Rough hands entangle themselves in my hair, scorching my skin in their wake. My body lies molten in his arms while my tongue flicks vibrantly, tasting the wine on my love`s breath. His black stubble scratches against my cheek as I have longed for it to all night. Jon`s soft mouth is everywhere at once; kissing my mouth, my chin, my neck, my ear, and then back to my lips again. The fire is everywhere at once as if we are one sun blazing in the sky, melting into one being. I have never seen or felt love such as this before. It scares me; I have turned into a person I know not. Yet, we blaze so bright with one another I am lifted beyond the clouds into the welcoming universe. We pull away, gasping for a breath in the bitter air. Jon`s handsome face twists into a smile brighter than I`ve seen on him and he leans his head against mine. A laugh ripples through him as we cradle against one another, devouring every moment. The world around me becomes clearer until the roar in my ears ceases altogether. I hear a faint scratch on the iron of the door and I move to let Ghost in. Jon`s hand snakes around my waist stopping my attempt.

"There is a toll," he chuckles, leaning down to kiss me. I step around him blithely, moving just fast enough to make it to the door before his strides are matched with my own. With a thrust the door is open and Ghost leaps into the room with playful grace, knocking the both of us over. My laugh comes out high and loud, the opposite of it when I am around the other men of the Night`s Watch. It sounds girlish now, almost too much so. Ghost leans over to slobber on Jon`s face and the boy-man roars with laughter. He pulls me down to him letting Ghost`s slimy tongue lick at my face and hair. The great wolf settles next to us and we lay like a family enjoying the presence of one another. Breath whizzes in and out of my two boys and I lie between them, back pressed against Ghost`s warm fur and hands twirling in Jon`s hair.

"Tell me of how you found Ghost," I request, unable to look away from Jon`s gaze. The eyes that stare back are like hot melting chocolate being stirred in a pot, dark and rich and intoxicating. He smiles slightly at the memory.

"I found him outside of Winterfell with my brothers, Robb and Bran, and my father. We saw his brothers and sisters first huddled around the bitch`s corpse, they were a sea of brown and black. I turn away for a moment and what do I see? A little white pup squirming in the dirt yards away. None of my sisters or brothers wanted him in fear he would die, so he was mine to take care of," Jon clears his throat and continues with a pause. "It`s sad really, his poor mother was ripped open by the antlers of a stag. He never got to know her; we have that much in common." Jon lays his hand on Ghost`s large head and gives him a good scratch. Although the mournful subject has been brought up, Jon`s disposition is still chipper.

"I`m amazed that the direwolves still exist," I say turning my head to gaze at the sweet creature.

"Did you go blind when he fought the bear? You should be amazed that so _few_ of them exist." He laughs again with a carefree smile that is so unlike him; I love it. I raise my mouth to his and kiss him softly. Jon`s thumb pets my cheek and I lean against it, a soft burn reverberating through my body. "You should tell me a story," he whispers, sweet breath shifting the hair around my face. I think silently of one that might interest him.

"I have a story you would like," I say. He nods slightly, prodding me on. "It goes back to the story of Lanka, when the first men were just settling in Westeros. He settled in the valley beneath the mountains that are now the Eyrie, with a river winding through a great meadow, and the mountains of the moon overlooking the valley to the west. Lanka discovered many new fruits and trees that would only bloom in the delicate climate of the valley overlooked by the moon. Only the lunar light that shined through the mountains would cause blue and pink lilies to bloom and dragon pears to grow strong and thick. He tasted the sweetest honey of the land in the hives of the bees from the valley, due to the lilies and locust trees that bloomed in the night. Huge scaly fish swam in the river, glistening like newborn rainbows under the rapids. He built a keep there and farmed the land himself, much unlike the other lords that came with him across the sea. His wife, Amador, bore three sons who all eventually wanted to fight for the Northern Throne, a notion which Lanka thought dishonorable to the land the Gods had already graced them with. The sons fought over their father`s sword, knowing that it was an extension of the hand that helped win the western world. Though Lanka grew weak with age, he knew better than to let his sons take the sword," I sit up and lean my back against the hay bed. "He told them they would have to search for it, for patience and strife make a boy a man. Yet, no one knew where he hid the great sword made of the ancient Valyrian steel. Even on his deathbed, he never revealed to his sons where the sword might be." Jon looks up at me with a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"Old Nan used to tell me that story when I was just a boy," he says.

"You said that she has the best stories in Winterfell, did she ever reveal the ending to that story?" Jon tilts his head in confusion.

"Other than Lanka`s line leading through the past 6,000 years, there is no other ending. No man has ever found the sword. I know he was your ancestor, if that`s the answer your looking for, as mine were the ancient men of the Starks."

"No, well he is my ancestor, but you`re wrong about the ending. The sword was found," I say with a sly smile on my lips. Jon gives me a looks that suggests he thinks I am only playing with him. "My brothers and I were swimming in the river one day just under the falls that go by Lanka`s namesake and I stepped on a rock that had only empty space beneath it. The water sucked me under and between the rocks. Once I was free from them I swam upwards towards the surface. When I finally tasted air, a dark cavern was open above me, not the sky of the Valley of the Moon. There was a shore of rocks I climbed onto when Danny`s face bobbed up from the water, with Eli in tow. All of us were still children, so we explored in the dim light of the cavern. There were only a handful of small cracks at the entrance for light, but they were enough. At the end of the cave, when the light had since gone I remember feeling around for the ground and instead feeling the sharpness of a knife cutting my hand." With this I open my palm to show Jon the pink scar. "When we were back in the light, a sword was in my hands. My brothers and I slipped from between the rocks to greet the afternoon. I was far too weak to wield it and had no skill with a sword, so Danny took it with promises to train me." Jon looks towards the sword at my hip. I pull the steel from its sheath and lie it before him as he sits up. "The sheath is not the original, my grandfather had it made for Danny when they had confirmed the sword`s identity."

"This is Durandal?" Jon asks with eyes glittering with wonder. I only smile in response. The Valyrian steel shines in the firelight, the ancient etching appearing before our eyes. "Those are the markings of the first men. May I?" He asks standing. I reply with a curt nod. Jon stands full and gives a swift swing of the sword, letting the blade cut through the air. He twists and spins with Durandal moving in a graceful arc.

"It`s still a bit large for me wield," I say admiring his ease with the weapon.

"Why would you say that?" He asks, the sword coming to a halt mid-arc.

"I may have been the one to come across this sword, but it was true to my brother. He fought so well Danny could best my grandfather with sword," I remark, sadness creeping into my voice at the thought of the lessons. Jon`s face lights up with a curious thought.

"I know we are closely matched Gemma, but we could at least be sparing partners. We could challenge each other, few others here seem to be able to."

I consider the idea a bit. Jon could teach me how to fight like a northerner, while I could give him some help in grace; the rough styles above the neck seem to lack in the more complex sword tricks of the south. I smile at the thought of us sparing, not sure if I can act with menace towards him now. "That sounds fun actually, prepare to lose Jon Snow." A smile graces my love`s face with the remark, and he hands me back my sword. It slides back into the simple sheath with ease. Jon pulls my face to his in a rough embrace with sudden fervor. His kiss is hard on my mouth with strong hands pulling at my sides. I break from his lips to lean my head on the dented armor covering his chest. Jon holds me to him as if I might fall away and never return to him, as if he is afraid he may lose me.

"It`s hard to imagine that we first kissed only three weeks ago," I say against his chest.

"You`ve only been here for two moons, Gemma," he chuckles.

"I know but we get on so well I feel like we`ve known each other for years. I wish you could have known me when I was a girl." He turns my head up to look at him with a gentle hand.

"I do know you as a girl, even if you pretend to be a boy. I do enjoy the thought of you in an actual dress though."

"Sometimes I do too," I whisper. Jon gives a great sigh, cause my head to jerk up towards the noise. He gathers his words for a moment before speaking softly.

"I know why you came here Gemma, but what possessed you to leave everything behind for this . . . hope you have?"

"It`s more than just finding out what happened to my brother and grandfather, Jon. I`ve told you before, my place at Lanka`s falls was only to be sold away to some lord. I couldn`t stay anymore. You know this is the only place a person with no titles can defend the seven kingdoms. In a way, I`ve always wanted to be a man of the Night`s Watch." My love looks away, worry etching itself on his young face.

"I don`t how we can keep these rendezvous going when we take our vows," he says placing himself by the hearth. "We can`t always keep an eye out for the other if we are not sent out together."

"That`s why we need to train each other, become better fighters. We can do this, I know it." I crawl up beside him, lying on the floor next to a sleeping Ghost.

"I hope so," Jon whispers, running fingers through my hair.

. . . .

Outside of our tower, Jon and I try our best to steer clear of the other. I pray to the Gods that to the other men, we seem as friends and nothing more. We cannot meet every night since we are placed on the Wall regularly, and rarely are placed up in the sky together. I agreed that we would train today outside of Ser Allistor`s glare. The two of us meet in the large space around our towers to spar. Sam has been spreading the word that we will train together and already Grenn and Rast have gathered to watch. Ghost trots in before Jon does, the crunch of their feet announcing their presence. Grenn gives him a supportive pat on the shoulder before Jon and I wave at each other.

"Let`s take this slow _Glenn_, I don`t want to injure you when you`re not used to your sword," he says seriously, truly concerned for my clumsy ways.

"Fat chance Snow, you`re just afraid I might best you with a real sword!" I jest at him. "Be glad you`re wearing armor." He glowers at my boasting, angry that I hurt his pride. Jon pulls a borrowed and beaten iron sword from a matching sheath and waits for me to draw my sword. I unsheathe the great weapon, its weight yanking my arm towards the snowy ground. He comes at me lithe as the fastest wolf hunting its prey. Our swords clash and hold, pushing at one another to break free or fall. Yet, I am agile and move from Jon, ducking under his arm and twirling, nearly striking him at the waist. He runs at me, knocking me to the ground with a loud thump, but I roll swiftly away before he can hold his blade to my throat. A hand snakes out to grab at my boot, and I use both hands to swing at it with Durandal. Mid-arc I come to the realization that I am about to cut Jon`s hand off, but it is too late to stop the blade`s motion. I quickly jerk my foot in the way of it. A loud crunch reverberates through the air when my sword strikes against the thin metal cast that protects my shin bone.

. . .

Jon

Gemma winces into the dusty snow beneath her. Durandal lies stuck in the metal casing around her shin bone, the aluminum shaped all the way around the sword. I look down at my hand and count the fingers twice; I was sure my hand was lost only a moment ago. Sam, Rast, Grenn, and Pyp all run at us, yelling in muffled voices through the combative wind. Gemma sits with tears falling down her face and pulls the sword free from her foot with a loud grunt. Her soft silken hands reach out to check her ankle, but soon she pulls them out of the boot. I sheathe my sword and stand, leading the hand she nearly claimed out for her. She grasps it tightly and soon the beautiful girl is leaning on me, tenderly managing to stand on two feet.

"It`s not broken," she proclaims with a small smile.

"I imagine you will have quite a bruise though," I say.

"A small price to pay for your hand," Gemma whispers, gray eyes shining up at me. I want to kiss her, but with the other men ready to pepper us with questions, even our secretive stare is cut short.

"I thought you had him Glenn, I really did: Never seen Lord Snow look so terrified," Pyp says snickering at Jon. The group erupts with laughter, although mine and Gemma`s seem nervous, knowing how close her sword came to hitting its mark. She unlatches her arm from mine and turns towards the tower.

"I think I need to have a look at this," she says with a wave. Gemma limps off in the direction of the keep, a line starting to materialize in the snow she slowly trips through. I am about to tell my brothers that I mean to join her, make sure she is alright, but I someone is faster than me.

"He may need help getting up the stairs, Jon. You should give Glenn a hand," Sam smiles at his own humor, nodding towards my black stone home.

"Ay, that`s a good point," say trying not to appear too willing. I walk towards the keep, maintaining an agonizingly slow pace while I resist the urge to sprint to Gemma. When I finally return to her side, she leans on the walls of the stair with heavy breaths.

"I`m sorry Jon, I swung on instinct, I didn`t want to hit you. I`m so sorry."

"I`m fine Gemma, don`t fret about it now. Let`s get you to your bed," I say lifting her. She protests, saying someone will see them, so I struggle up the stairs with her, the maimed foot dragging on the stone steps with a soft thunk. I lay her on the bed and light the fire with a nearby torch. She pulls off her cloak and thin armor and boots, until she sits on her bed in only a tunic and breeches, feet exposed to the cold dry air drifting about the room. Gemma pulls up on the leather bottoms to show the darkness spreading on her leg. She must notice the worried look on my face because she covers it with a sigh.

"I`ll be fine. I`ll just have to go easy on it for the next few days. Bruise will be gone in no time at all," she reassures.

"I`m glad for that, but I was actually thinking about how that was almost my hand," I say hiding a smile. Her laughter echoes around the room like the sound of bells on a soft wind. I stand and plant a kiss on her mouth, but when I pull away she holds me to her, mouth intoxicating me. I find myself pushing her into the bed, head spinning when I can`t taste enough of her. I bite softly at her lips and she yelps against me before humming in pleasure. My hands develop their own mind and wander over her body, causing her breath to be short and choppy. When I place my mouth on her sweet neck to explore her soft skin, she says my name. It comes out only as a soft whisper and her hands search to give my body release from its armor. She helps me pull the metal from my shoulders, then the shirt from my back. I grasp Gemma to me and feel her breasts through the thin layers she dons, wishing we were skin against skin, as close as man and wife were meant to be. When I return my kiss to her mouth, her breaths escape in excited gasps, and her hands move shakily over my naked skin. I move my hand to her shirt with the intention of removing it from her, when the door opens with soft bang. I cover her with her cloak so whomever it is might miss her womanly form, yet when I turn my eyes only find a shocked Sam standing in the doorway. Gemma`s face reddens and she turns her body into the hay supporting our bodies. The door closes with a soft clack, behind Sam and he walks in with Ghost behind him.

"Are you two crazy, or stupid?!" he says in an infuriated whisper. "I could have been Grenn or Rast." Words escape me in this horrified state and apparently Gemma too, for she says nothing. "What will you do when you take your vows; take them with every intention of breaking them in the same day? You both have more honor than that!" Sam`s huge chest heaves as he scowls at us; the angry parent making reality exist in our ever absurd love affair. Gemma arises from her spot next me.

"What should we do then?" She says, glancing between the both of us with a withered stare.

"Leave or stay, the two of you will do what you choose. Men break their vows at the brothel every day. The both of you could rise to places you would never go anywhere else in Westeros, if you stay," Sam says softly from across the cold and empty room. He suddenly throws a heavy cloth on the floor that makes a small crackling noise when it settles. "I smashed some ice for your leg Gemma. It should help bring the swelling down," Sam shuts the door quietly on the way out, though the frustration is clear on his face. Gemma and I sit in the silence for a long moment, its presence making clear what needs to be done, though neither of us have the nerve to say it.

"We were foolish to think this would work, Jon. I have to find out what happened to my brother and this isn`t-"

"I love you," I say turning to meet her stare. She grimaces and tries to hold back tears that brim in her eyes, but they deny her wish and trickle down her face in hot streams.

"I love you too," she chokes and wraps her arms around herself, sobbing now.

"I know this can`t work, but I will keep you safe, even if I can`t allow this to continue." I try to keep my composure, but the salty traitorous tears threaten my vision until they brim onto my cheeks. She is so beautiful sitting in front of me like a goddess in human form. Her eyes shine in that beautiful soft familiar grey, yet her mouth calls to me in a seductively sad pout. When I run a finger over her cheeks, the soft plush skin rubs into my hand as Gemma welcomes my touch. I kiss her, trying to convey all the emotions that plague my chest with one touch. It takes all my strength to pull away from her but when I stand her fingers grasp my own.

"You should know Jon Snow, I never saw this happening. Even if we can`t live this way together, until the day we pass into worlds unknown, I`m glad I got to love you, even if our moment was so brief." I clench her fingers, wishing I didn`t have to let go, but I do. I focus on the door resisting the urge to turn back to Gemma. When Ghost and I step out into the dark stone hall, I know I have left the boy back with the woman I love. A hollow man stands outside her door, unable to turn back, but too distraught to move forward.

**Author`s note**

Well that escalated quickly. I hope you all know that I really appreciate your support of my story, it warms my heart to see people favoriting and following it. I could use some future ideas, I`m starting to run out of my own so if you have any let me know I`ll take them into consideration. Also, if you could write me a review I would be super-duper happy, you would make my week. But all that aside thank you very much for reading.


	6. Chapter 6 In the Darkness Of Night

**Dear readers,**

** It`s been awhile since I seen or read the show/books so things might not be quite in the same time frame as they are supposed to be. Sorry. I don`t own anyone except Gemma, A Song of Ice and Fire is all GRRM. Review and enjoy!**

** Sarah**

Gemma

I long to see the dark pools as calm as still water, yet they avoid my gaze. He strays from me, further away with every breath, a barricade built around himself keeping only myself out. The broken boy is to find his honor today, within the few hours of light glistening upon the snowy land. I will as well, yet I fear my honor may be my undoing. We gather around the Lord Commander like knights around their just King, our house sporting the color of black. Jon has similar raven hair, dirty and tousled upon his head, but the same lovely color besides. It suits him today especially; his disposition is bleak and sad despite this morning of high esteem. If his eyes would raise to my own, he would think the same of me for my mood is no more cheery. Though, it has a right to be lacking, since I can no longer call Jon Snow mine. A fist clenches my heart in a tight fist at the sight of the man and I do my best to control my face so it doesn`t contort into some painful glare. Brothers file in around me, faces glowing with the suitable excitement for the occasion, waiting for Lord Mormont to speak. His pale mouth moves, yet my ears hear none of the words pouring out. He means to inspire us, but I can only concentrate on the dilemma at hand. If I swear myself to this cause I can never love Jon, but if I leave I can never be anything but a woman and I cannot keep the vow I made to Danny. Jon will not speak to me of our short relationship, let alone elope, how do I expect to convince him to leave with me? I have been tossing this question around in my head for two nights: I have had no revelation. Jon belongs here with his brothers. Quite possibly I do as well, but how can my heart withstand him being so near, yet so untouchable? If I avoid the man, I can make due and still withhold my vows. I will get over the pain that quakes in my chest. We may not see each other often if I become a squire and he is made a ranger. But if we are both rangers it will be next to impossible to avoid one another. When a question echoes throughout the men gathered Jon stands.

"I worship the old gods my Lord," he declares. Sam meekly arises from the row behind him.

"The Tarly`s do not worship the old gods milord, but I think the old ones may do better at answering my prayers than the seven have in the past." The Lord Mormont nods to them letting them leave for the haunted forest. In this moment I wish I had worshiped the new gods as to avoid my friends, but my prayers only go to the heart trees.

"My family worships the old gods as well My Lord," I say standing briskly. The Lord Commander studies me for a quick moment

"The River Lands worship the old gods? That is a new development I must say," he remarks.

"In the Valley of the Moon it has always been so," I offer in reply. He tilts his shaggy gray head towards Jon and Sam as we walk toward the gates. Two men join us on our trek to find a Weirwood tree and they saunter behind in the deep snow. Jon keeps his face forward, unwilling to look back at me, but his body seems tense and rigid in simmering anger or possibly stress. Sam looks around with darting nervous eyes but flashes a quick reassuring smile for me. Ghost trots between them with tongue tasting the air. He turns his massive head and stares at me with sad eyes, as if he is hurting too. On the other side of the wall, winds from the great Frostfangs tear at our cloaks and bite at our skin with sharp pointy teeth, dangerously cold. We tread through the forest in silence until the face of a Weirwood tree looms over our figures. Its bare branches stretch towards the heavens while the old, carved face stares down gently, as if expecting our declaration. Jon goes first and says his vows without a hint of what transpired between us only days ago. Sam is less sure. He recites the words with perfection, but his voice shakes. I think of my brother as my turn approaches. Danny knew I could be a warrior with enough practice; he knew I could escape the duties a woman is supposed to uphold to their family. This is the only place I can live _both_ of our dreams. I kneel below the great tree and make the choice that has plagued my heart for so long now it seems.

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come." I am thankful my voice does not falter, though a small tear rolls down my cheek.

"You knelt as a boy, arise as a man of the Night`s Watch," my new brother says to my back. I do not like being a man I realize, but it is far too late to change it now.

. . .

We walk back slowly, though not in silence as I had hoped, for words stream through Sam`s mouth in his excitement at becoming a crow. It is a day that should be celebrated, but the excitement eludes me in my self-pity. I exchange a hug with Sam, trying to feign the elation he shows, and utterly failing. Jon is warmer towards him in his hug; he grasps Sam around his broad waist a hugs him with a small chuckle at their accomplishment. I do not expect him to hug me as well. Jon`s arms around me are warm and comforting in his sudden embrace, yet he shares none of the words I dream of him saying. When our eyes meet I notice how his small smile is miles away from reaching his sleep deprived gaze. Back in the wispy square, Lord Mormont announces names and where they will go. Some of my friends are announced to be rangers like Rast and Grenn. I pat them on the back as I pass them.

"Glenn River, to the rangers," the Lord Commander says with a small glance in my direction. I am not sure how to feel since I will most certainly be paired with Jon now. The Lord of the Night`s Watch sends Sam to the squires, and he grins happily at me, a sigh leaving him in gladness that he was not deemed a ranger. "Jon Snow," the Lord Commander stares over at Jon, "to the squires." Jon`s smile upturns and then falters as the words make sense in his head. His fists ball in anger and his eyes smolder in an angry glare, yet he follows the order from his Commander to go with Maester Aemon to the Squires. I follow Rast to the rangers where Jaremy Rykker stands waiting to give orders.

At the tables, the new brothers of the Night`s Watch cheer and shout in drunken pride. I should be the same, yet my pride is as small as a copper coin hidden in the pockets of my breeches. Jon arrives late to the feast, sullen and angry, with a somber Ghost trailing behind. I train my gaze to the full cup of wine in front of me, desperate to avoid Jon`s stare. A furry beast knocks into me, lapping at my hand with love. I look up slowly, praying Jon is not with the great wolf. He has taken a seat near Sam on the other side of the room, far away from me. I pat the wolf on the head, glad for his presence. I feel as if he may be my only true friend in this place, for he wants nothing from me but love. Unlike _someone else_, I feel no guilt loving this friend. I drink down the wine quick, before it can muddy my brain, and rise from the feast celebrating my "great accomplishment". This is what I want, yet I ache and want only him. It`s been said we want what we can`t have; I know that to be truth now. Ghost follows me out into the cold dusty night until we enter the abandoned tower. I know the steps without the grace of light to guide me and we find our way to the warm confines of my quarters. I lie next to the hearth with Ghost, kissing his massive face as if he were some kind pet. He welcomes my touch as if he were some hound I could coddle and love.

"That would be too simple, eh?" I whisper to the white beast. Ghost`s tongue flicks out to wet my hand as if he understands my words. It would be no surprise if he really does. With Ghost by my side, sleep falls upon me easily, but in my dreams the only companion is his sweet master; the beautiful and brave Jon Snow, face glowing among the moonlit mountains.

Morning sun pulls me from the dreams, though I on grasp to them as I start to wake, unwilling to part from the perfect fantasy of my mind. Ghost is still beside me standing on four great legs, ready to catch his morning breakfast. I dress and throw on my leather armor, Durandal at my waist, and the bow and quiver on my back. Danny`s cloak covers me, making me look like a small lord. I follow Ghost out into the hall where a figure in black lurks in the torch light. Jon turns at the sound of footsteps, his face turning into a hard indecipherable mask at the realization that it is me. My chest aches; I wish I could break in front of him, let my love know how much I ache from the space between us. Would he comfort me if I cried? Would Jon pronounce his love with angry tears if I sunk to the floor and died before we could live a life together? They are all dreams I cannot have for our fate was chosen and proclaimed to the gods.

"I`m sorry for keeping Ghost from you in the night. He was so warm I fell asleep with him," I say with downcast eyes.

"I should lend him to you when you`re out in the haunted forest chasing down wildings and the gods know what else," Jon mutters in a biting tone. My anger doesn`t flare as it should, but pain rings in its place, the finger tightening around my chest even more. I try to keep my face as stoic as Jon`s, but I have less talent in controlling my emotions.

"I`m sorry the council should have chosen you above everyone else: You should be a ranger Jon, not Grenn, or Rast, or Toad, or even me. I wish –"

"There`s no need for that Gemma, what`s done is done." There`s so much more that I want to say but I hold it back, glad he is at least speaking to me. With a sigh we walk out into the fresh snow of the morning.

Ironically, my first day as a ranger is spent guarding the Wall, while Jon accompanies Lord Mormont out into the Haunted Forest. I spend the day mulling over writing to Eli, I have missed my brother in the past two fortnights, as any dutiful sister would. I would wish my brother to where I am but how shall I tell him? He can`t tell anyone where I am if I do reveal the secret. When Toad comes to take my place on the Wall, I hastily make my way to Maester Aemon`s quarters. Before I can enter the castle, I hear horns resounding in the distance and a commotion at the gate. The black iron is pulled apart and a group of brothers enter swiftly dragging two objects behind them on horseback. Men gather around the snow covered bodies, hushed gasps escaping their mouths in surprise and anger. Rangers Othor and Jafer Flowers lay black with eyes staring blankly at the surrounding world, mouth open in a final sigh of death.

"We should burn them," Sam mutters, appearing next to me.

"Why? They need a proper ceremony; it`s good to bury them_ and_ the Lord Commander thinks Maester Aemon should have a look at them." I say in contrast.

"They don`t smell at all. Dead men smell dead and rotting, they . . . they don`t smell of anything. As if death never truly hit them," he says with eyes wide. I shoot him a curious look but he walks away before I can ask him what fearful thoughts roam in his head.

A dark cloud seems to settle over my brothers at the mysterious death of Othor and Jafer Flowers. Laughter is heard even less than usual as the sunlight sleeps, leaving the night grim and full of unknown terrors that lurk in the snowy shadows. Hunger eludes me, but I still make my way towards the dining hall and plop down next to Grenn. He wears a worried, far away glance that is unusual for his normally sardonic disposition. Many of the other men speak in loud voices, drunk with the warm wine of their goblet. Though the wine dulls the day looming over us all, the cheer of yesterday has since fled my brothers. I notice Jon and Sam sitting at the table farthest from my own with blank thoughtful stares, as if they are existing in another plane of reality. Occasionally, they whisper to one another with concerned stares. If my heart did not ache so harshly in my chest, I would join them, but I`m too afraid the closeness to Jon would cause the pain to overpower my senses, so I stay put. My brothers would chastise me for crying, let alone over Jon Snow. A carless scene that would show our intimate nature could spell death for the both of us.

A snide voice rises above the rest, rousing Jon and Sam from their conversation, and I hear the words "Stark" and "traitor" when chairs clash to the floor in rage. Jon rushes at the perpetrator, Ser Alliser Thorne, with knife drawn. He leaps on the table, face mangled by hate, knife posed to kill. It takes four men to pull him back from the Ser. Silence stretches throughout the room as Jon pulls at his brothers, trying to get away.

"Jon Snow, you are hereby confined to your quarters until the council can decide a suitable punishment for attacking another man of the Night`s Watch", the Lord Commander says with an irritated sigh. He whispers something to Jon as he walks past before the men escort Jon and Ghost to his room. My gaze drifts towards Alliser Thorne whose eyes alight with a small fire of joy and a triumphant smile crosses his face. I walk to Sam who lingers at the entryway where Jon recently left through, in search of more information.

"Sam what`s going on with Jon? And how does Thorne know about Lord Stark?" I ask in hushed tones. The cowardly man stares as if he believes he shouldn`t tell me, but changes his mind after my gaze turns cold and irritated.

"The news has spread about the old men of the Night`s Watch, Gemma," he whispers as we leave the commons. "Jon`s father was executed by King Joffery. The letter just arrived this morning."

"On what bounds was he executed? They had no proof he was traitorous to the crown!"

"Joffery is the King; he needs no proof apparently." I never met Eddard Stark, but the fact that Jon loved him is more than enough to set my heart pulling and twisting in empathy for the man. I am still unsure if I should go to him though. I bid Sam goodnight and walk to the tower where my brothers guard Jon. I hear crashes of wood against stone from Jon`s room as his anger gets the best of him. He would not welcome my presence in this state, so I let the man be and go to my chambers, searching for comfort in my own head since sleep avoids me in the darkness of the new moon.

I am consumed by empty, pointless thoughts until the scratching starts across the hall. Nails screech against stone as if by an animal, but I do not realize that it is Ghost until a growl tears from his throat. As fast as my arms can move I pull on my leather armor and tether Durandal to me, forgetting my bow and cloak. In the light of the torch burning in the corridor, Ghost is gone and Jon`s door open, revealing his empty chambers. I am too preoccupied with the sudden shouts outside to search for them. The frigid night sinks into my clothes and burns against my skin unlike any chill I have felt before. My skin feels as if it is turning to glass in this cold. I sprint towards the Shadow Tower where the shouts come from. Men battle below with one figure hacking away at the rest, obviously winning. I am confused at who would be attacking since all the men wear black; this could not be a wilding attack. As the perpetrator turns I see his face and emit a yell of surprise: Jafer Flowers is the man they fight, the dead ranger. His mouth opens and a monstrous yell pours out, splitting the air of the night. I strike at him with Durandal, but he counters every move, the unearthly blue eyes seem to predict my movements. I run towards the tower, remembering Sam`s warning earlier about burning them, praying that the dead man will fall. My hand wraps around the nearest torch and I rush at Flowers who now stands in the doorway with sword raised to strike me. I knock him to the ground, the torch pressed between us, and he erupts in flames like a log of ancient wood. I roll around on the snowy stone floor to put out my own flames and then strike at the dead ranger writhing on the floor. I hit him more times than I can keep track of, the Valerian steel blade cutting his body into pieces, leaving dents in the stone beneath him. The man is motionless but I do not leave his side until Jafer Flowers is merely ashes on the floor. I sit there next to the ashes and dying torch until Bowen Marsh pulls me up from the floor saying words that I strain to understand. I realize that he is asking if I am hurt. Since I feel no pain, I must be fine. Though I tell Marsh this, he thinks better of my frazzled state.

I am sent to see Maester Aemon so he can look at any injuries I have. When I near the top of the tower where his chambers lie, a familiar voice floats down to me. Jon speaks with Maester Aemon as the old man bends over his arm, wrapping a bandage it looks like. I run up the stairs with fright that Jon has been injured and notice Sam in the room as well, mixing a concoction in a stone bowl.

"You were hurt," I say from the doorway, unable to keep the girlish tone from inflicting my voice.

"Ah, Glenn come in please," Maester Aemon remarks ignoring my worried words about Jon. His blind eyes stare straight ahead feeling around Jon`s arm, seeing more without vision. "That burn will haunt you forever Jon Snow." The old man pours a bit of water over Jon`s hand, the bottle shaking in his weak grasp. I place myself next to Jon and grab a rag to mop up some of the blood that has pooled on the table. "How is the elixir coming Samwell?" Aemon asks as we turn towards Sam.

"I think it is done, My` lord," he replies setting the bowl in the blind man`s outstretched hand. The maester sniffs the concoction and then dips a finger in it before he nods with satisfaction. Jon grimaces as the man gently rubs the thick cream on his hand, covering the angry burn with green liquid. The minty smell of it drifts over to me as Maester Aemon finishes dressing Jon`s wound by wrapping his hand in a thick gauze and cloth.

"You will have to keep active with that hand if it is to keep its strength, but only when the wound has healed over," Aemon warns before he turns toward me. "You seem to be well my` dear, something for frazzled nerves perhaps?"

"Thank you my` lord but I think they will calm soon enough," I answer, grateful for his offer.

"In that case I have some letters to send in light of the recent events. Would you escort Lord Snow to his chambers? I have need of Samwell here," Aemon turns expecting me to say yes. Despite the gnawing dread in my stomach, I do agree to help Jon. My friend does not need it though, he only walks slowly down the steps while gripping his hand with a thoughtful stare.

"What happened?" I ask gently.

"Othor rose and attacked the Old Bear," he replies in a monotone voice, keeping most of the details to himself. "Your armor is burnt; what happened to you?"

"Jafer Flowers became a wight and I . . . threw a torch at him," I say, reveling in the events of the past hour. We make our way to the tower, where Ghost follows behind in our echoing footsteps. I follow Jon inside his room; I am glad that the man makes no move to stop me. Only a second after I have the door latched, Jon wraps his good arm around me from behind.

"You could have been hurt," he says kissing at the crown of my head. I turn into his body, heart pounding in my chest at our closeness.

"And you _were_ hurt," I say with irritation. "You cannot keep protecting me Jon Snow, for I can take care of myself. I killed a wight; that is proof enough. I only wish they would make you a ranger after saving the Lord Commander himself." I want to say more but Jon`s mouth closes over mine, stopping my words. His lips are smooth but hungry with his good hand pulling gently at my hair. I melt into him, having missed his touch on my skin and the taste of his mouth. Although I wish to enjoy his sweet kiss, my mind prevents me from doing so. It argues about our honor and a promise we made only days ago. I push him away gently, every ounce of my body wishing I didn`t have to.

"Days ago I would have left with you Jon but we are bound by vows now, ones I do not want to break! We have a place here; many would have died today if you and I had left, Joer Mormont himself included. We can`t be together!" The next words squish my heart but I say them anyways with all the courage I can muster. "I don`t love you!" I hate myself as the words fly out, wishing I could take them back so I can elope with this man who plagues my heart, but that would be foolish. He stands stoically before me with nothing to say, but I know I have hurt him badly and in a time when he needs me most. Yet, I cannot go on without being driven mad by guilt. Although, I may not be able to go on without being driven mad by this love either. I leave Jon`s chambers as Ghost gives a sad whimper, though I do not know if it is for Jon or me or the both of us. If I make towards my own room I will cry and dig up a weak pile of pity for myself, so I walk out into the icy morning air. It is more of a relief to discuss the events of the wights than to cope with the hearts broken by my own hand.


	7. Chapter 7 Of Wives and War

Gemma

It is hard to keep my identity hidden when surrounded by 250 men out in the bleak wilderness. I hold my water all day, and use the cover of night fall to hide myself away from the eyes of my brothers. Even worse still, Jon is by Lord Mormont`s side for every breath it seems, catering to the Old Bear`s every whim. He is far too close to me to stay in comfort; every time he is near a heavy guilt pulls on my arms and legs, dragging me towards the dark depths of hell. His brown pools never meet my grey anymore, for which I am thankful, though any warmth Jon gave me left when we last parted, and hastily so. My insides feel as frozen as the Frostfang Mountains around us while being as unmovable and unbreakable as the frigid rocks would be underneath the soft tips of my fingers. My mind tells me this is unwise, without flexibility I will break and shatter into a thousand pieces. If I let myself feel for an instant I will give my entire dream up, an act I shall not stand for. I have come too far to let some boy steal everything away as most women let boys and men do. I will not be some groveling wife whose only duty is to pleasure her husband and bear children: My heart belongs to me and no other, especially not some boy. However, this great opposing strength that focuses my traitorous mind is lacking the might to chase my guilt away.

I force my gaze down to Mira who snorts beneath the soft saddle she carries me in. The horse supporting my small frame is the last part of my life that is still Gemma`s, not Glenn`s, and in her eyes I see her sizing up my confusion. My sweet friend is the only one who is familiar with the determined girl from Lanka`s Falls and the small boy of the Night`s Watch. I fear she understands each better than I do.

. . .

I am blessed to be seen as a boy when we arrive at the broken down stone fortress of Craster`s Keep. Craster`s wives slink away from all the men, eyes brimming with silent fear, two with bellies swollen with kicking infants. Their hair is wild and unkempt with dresses made from animal skins and old rotten clothing. I long to comfort the women, to be acquainted with the poor souls that are lovers to their own father, but all I can muster is pity for them and the girls who clutch to their mother`s skirts.

With this in mind, I come to a great surprise to find a wife following me one particularly frigid afternoon. After Pyp and I have delivered a message to the Old Bear, I notice her blond halo trailing after us while blending into the shadows of each corner, so as not to be seen. I have seen her often, but only now does it occur that she has been keeping tabs on my whereabouts. As soon as Pyp leaves my side, I turn towards her, apprehensive of the stalking girl.

"You can come out now," I say with eyes fixed on the dirty stone beam she conceals herself behind. She slips her toes out from behind the rough pillar, her step shaky. An arm follows, a thin pale limb outstretched towards the rock for support. The rest of her appears, clad like the rest of the women in dirty patched dresses. Around her shoulders is a small cloak of silken rabbit fur, which the girl clutches with bony fingers. "I won`t hurt you," I say in a quiet voice. "On my honor as a man of the Night`s Watch."

"You are no man," says the girl pulling her matted golden hair from her face. Anger flares inside me, climbing up my throat with threats prepared to spring: I turn to leave so it does not consume me. My brisk footsteps carry me away but the girl runs after me, no longer skulking in the silent dark.

"Forgive me for being so blunt, please, I need to you to help me!" The girl`s shrill voice rings louder in the corridor with every word and I spin around at her and wrap an irritated hand around her mouth.

"Calm yourself friend, before you kill us both!" I glance around us checking for any unsuspected eavesdroppers. After checking the hall next to us, I come to the conclusion that there are none. My eyes reach the trembling girl again. "Now tell me, what is your name?" I ask trying to sound soothing.

"It`s Gilly," she whispers after a pregnant pause. "And yours?"

"Glenn," I say nodding. Her green eyes narrow as if she is expecting my real name. I do not offer it. "Tell me Gilly, what is it you need of me?" She looks down at her grimy shoes as if overwhelmed with a peculiar anxiety on the subject she was so desperate to expose only minutes ago.

"I am with child, as I`m sure you`ve noticed. Everyone`s sure it`s a boy and I can`t let him . . . give it to _them_," tears form in her eyes but her meaning is lost on me.

"Give it to who?"

"M`lord keeps the girls his wives bear but them boys, our boys," she chokes back a painful sob, "t-they go to the lords of the Land of Always Winter as sacrifice, to keep the Others away." The new knowledge stuns me, taking the pity I previously felt away, and leaving in its place the desire to save this poor girl and the child within her belly. Footsteps sound in the corridor behind us, waking me from the thoughts inside my head. She runs towards the opposite and empty hallway while I make a hasty exit from the large hole in the stone wall.

I snatch my bow and quiver from their place at my fire pit and hop onto Mira. Having missed the feeling of Mira`s coarse hair and warm body when I ride, I skip her saddle for today. We walk past the other fires and men that gather around them towards the sloping hill covered in snow. Many ask where I am going and I tell them that I wish to hunt. Grenn offers to go with me, but I tell him I need peace from this crowded place. He nods, agreeing with my remark, and lets me on my way. We break into a fast trot towards the hill, and then to a canter heading into the open tundra on the outskirts of the Fist of the First Men. My friend and I fly into the snowy horizon, wishing we could escape the chains that bind me to this place. White cold dust tears against my flesh yet the freedom pulls my heart from its long hard damper. I see a figure moving fast in the trees ahead and quietly steer Mira towards the movement`s source. A small group of deer dig at the snow in search of the grass that lies beneath. A fleshy stag snorts while his hooves plunge into the soft ice, he is by far the meatiest, making him my target as well. I draw an arrow to my bow and pull the string back to my cheek, ready to release. I pray to the gods that the clouds part and reveal the precise moment to strike. I wait a moment, my arm straining and hand shaking with anticipation, when the gods grant my wish and the sunlight glistens against the stag`s brown eye. The arrow expels from the bow in a fast spin, silent as death. It slices through the frostbitten air until it meets the stag and continues through my dinner to connect with a tree behind the animal. The other deer look up at the resounding twang my arrow makes as it enters the wood and lurch away in confusion and fright. Mira and I trot towards the lonely stag, blood stretching across the snow in the darkening evening. After pulling the arrow from the tree, I sling the animal over my horse`s back and tie it tight with a flourish. We slowly trot back to the camp at Craster`s Keep. A few men give cheers as we proudly walk into camp, followed by a thin trail of blood leaking from the deer`s eyes. I pull the deer off Mira and tear the skin from the animal before gutting it. I split it up and set an enormous spit up to cook the meat, while saying a prayer to the nameless gods among the woods for my supper. As the fire crackles and moans, I wash the gore from my new deer skin blanket and my own body. I turn to see a pudgy man with black hair staring with longing at the deer roasting over the fire.

"I`m going to share Sam, no worries," I chuckle, flashing a smile at him.

"Ay, I`ll be happy to help you eat that beast Gem-glenn, but first I need to speak with you about some things," he says glancing around nervously. We sit on logs around the fire and I nod for him to continue. He places a razor sharp knife of glass in my hand with careful precision. "Take this as a gift from me. It is dragonglass: a weapon of the First Men."

"Where did you-"

"It doesn`t matter where they were found, but I have a few of them and I have a feeling it might do you good in the future." I gaze down at the mysterious knife watching the blade glisten in the firelight before placing it in my belt. "And Gilly said she talked to you; do you have any ideas on how to help her escape?" Sam says breaking into a whisper. I stare openmouthed at him.

"You sold me out! You told her my secret. Sam I trusted you! I thought she had just figure it out herself," I say trying to be quiet.

"She did figure it out, we`ve just became friends and I wanted to help her and I thought you could talk to her being a girl you might understand her problem. . ." he rambles on and trying to calm the storm of anger brewing inside of me.

"We can`t get her away now; I`ll be ranging around the Fist soon and she can`t be with us when we journey north," I sigh with irritation.

"The baby will be here soon she can`t wait!"

"Then she will have to hide him! Gilly and the boy will die for certain if she goes north with us Sam. We may be able to sneak her out after we head back through here but now means death for her _and_ us," I manage in a harsh whisper. He is silent after that, although a hungry smile graces his face when I hand him a large chunk of meat off the stag`s thigh. After awhile, he quietly speaks up again.

"You`know, the wives don`t get fed enough around here, that`s why they`re so thin." Sam leaves, having eaten enough to go tend to the ravens.

When my stomach is full to bursting of the venison I hand most of it off to my friends among the watch. I bring a hefty bone covered in fat and meat to Ghost who looms around Jon`s empty campfire for my wolven friend to gnaw on. My feet lead me to the back of the broken keep, staying in the shadows. When Gilly comes up from the kitchens I place a greasy hand over her mouth to silence her scream. In her hand I place a large cut from the best part of the deer, the back strap. She smiles at me and begins to tear at the meat with eager greasy bites. When she is finished I rush off with a wave, wishing not to be seen with the girl.

. . .

The atmosphere is the coldest I have ever felt at our lookout at the Fist of the First Men. I am never warm or even comfortable, I fear that I will still be cold even if I step into the flames of the broad fire my brothers and I huddle around. The cold seeps into my bones, keeping my fingers a painful red all the time, until the occasional moment when they turn a dark purple and feeling ceases altogether. There is no food so men will eat a horse from time to time and I go hungry many days because I refuse to add Mira to this desperate act of killing. She is all I have left of home; the only memory of my childhood that I will ever come into contact with for the rest of my days most likely. If she is lost than I will fully become the man of the Night`s Watch named Glenn, a stranger even I do not know. I still want a little piece of Gemma to exist within me no matter how far I have to bury it in my heart. I hug the sweet horse and pull the deerskin around her back as I lead her to the fire. I pray she is warm.

Jon left a few days ago to join Qhorin Halfhand on a mission up the Frostfangs. I yearned to join my brothers when they departed, but I fear Jon would have distracted me too much. I will be fine by myself anyways, beside the Lord Mormont, who keeps me close to him at all rangings. I remember the look Jon and I last shared: Was it goodbye? His dark pools seemed to pierce my soul as if he knew in that gaze that neither one of us would forget, yet I still don`t understand it. I want to forget us and this affair that nearly cost me all that is important in my lowly life. I think opened his mouth to say something, but turned on his mount as if he was some vexed reprobate, upset that he couldn`t voice his own deep dark thoughts plaguing every moment, as my own voice does. Ghost turned back and met my gaze, I remember. As the team climbed the hills and we left the area the direwolf let loose a great howl, resounding with a sadness that still haunts me in the depths of my belly. A fortnight later, many claim the troupe dead but I refuse to believe it, lest all my emotions come pouring out in an embarrassing tumble. A horn sounds in the distance, and I smile thinking that rangers are returning until the next horn sounds. My spirits plummet in terror as a third horn sounds in the distance. Every man stops, eyes widening in horror and realization. Three blasts of the horn can only mean that the dead walk. An army of White Walkers are coming for us.

I tear on my armor and strap Durandal to me, my bow and quiver already on my back. "You and I will make it through this; we will survive Mira," I say grasping her great face. She neighs against me, fear clouding her eyes as I`m sure it does my own. I move to put the saddle on her but she shakes it off. The leather seat falls to the snowy ground with a soft thump. "So be it then, I imagine we`ll move faster without it," I mutter and lift myself onto her back. We sprint through the petrified masses searching for the Lord Commander among my desperate brothers. When I find the man, the silvery army of wights is stretching over the land, preparing to strike. The Commander speaks of flaming arrows and torches but my mind drowns out sound as I view the vast army. I don`t know how the Watch can win this battle. A massive roar echoes throughout the mountains and rings in my ears. A dead white bear has joined the army, risen from its grave to wreak havoc upon the land. My brothers and I light our arrows on torches and send them loose with hopes that they will strike true. Many white figure catch fire and fall, but more move and fill in their places. Mormont begins the charge with me not long behind and the white and the black mix together on the battle field. I find a torch that miraculously appeared in my hand and swing it at the dead men with my sword in tow. I take out many of the wights, but there are too many for me to keep up with; even before a dead man is done burning, a new one replaces them aiming to kill me. Soon a sea of black and red litters the grounds, with a few charred bodies of a White Walker among them. I cannot tell how much time has passed; an hour, a day, or only minutes? Screams of dead men fill the air, whether it be the shrill haunting screech of the White men or the death of a brother I can tell no difference any more. The air smells of blood, defecation, and sweat: Truly the scent of death. I slash at a White Walker and he and the wight horse burst up in flames. A shout next to me pulls me from the sight. Grenn urges me away from the battle and back towards the safety of the Wall.

"The Lord Commander has called a retreat, we have to run now!" He shouts over the screams. Mira races off the field of battle with me cradled on her back, retreating from certain death. Grenn keeps up well and unfortunately so do our enemies.

"Go to Lord Mormont!" I yell to him pointing to the mass of black in from of us. He chances a look at me, eyes full of confusion. I hand him my torch, and turn Mira abruptly towards a large group of trees, away from my brothers. I pray the riders will follow me, not Grenn. For some reason unbeknownst to me, they do, and when I glace back, there are three riders. Three too many to kill without a torch. I hear the hoof beats behind me getting louder as they gain on us and I spur Mira on faster in hopes of getting the riders farther away from my brothers. It is all in vain. White faces appear next to me, swords raised to strike the head from my shoulders. I wait for the sharp cold impact of metal slicing through my skin but it does not come. A great lurch comes from under me, throwing my body from Mira`s back. I fly through the air and land in the snow, rolling on impact. Yet the swords continue their downward arch and plunge into the oldest friend I have left. The dark blades make no sound as they slice through her, three swords peaking out of her belly dripping with red. Mira`s eyes meet mine before they empty and go blank. She falls into a crumpled heap on the ground, soul gone from the body. Rage pulses through me as it never has before and I heave Durandal at my nearest foe. He knocks it from my hand and it flies away hidden in the snow. I grasp for anything on my belt until my hand finds a sharp dagger tucked away neatly. It cuts my hand, but I feel no sting as it cuts, I only swing it again at my enemy. It slashes through the wight horse`s neck, but I refuse to stop there. I dodge a sword before plunging the knife into the heart of its rider until it screams with the last breath in its lungs. I rip open another horse and jump to slice open the throat of another rider, but not before it thrusts a sword through my leg. I fall to the red snow, blood spurting out of my wounded limb. The last wight lifts its blade to strike a death blow when a large dark figure leaps from the shadows knocking it away and tearing at the dead flesh. A screech echoes throughout the wood as the dead knight passes, then another follows when the wight horse dies. A dark figure crouches over me and looks into my face. The face I cannot recognize but the eyes are a pair I could not forget. They are my eyes; the eyes of any who have Lanka`s blood. They are the eyes of the waterfall. A grey silver, harsher than I remember but _I know_ they are the eyes of my brother: Daniel Amador, the young explorer.

Author`s note:

Whew! That was hard to write. I`ve been waiting to get to this part since I started so yay! The next few chapters are mostly going to be about Gemma, because we know what happens to Jon but I will leave a few paragraphs from his POV. Also, the war with the White Walkers was not in the show if I remember right, it`s only in the book. The show replaced the scene with Sam killing the White Walker/ being ignored by the other. Tell me what you think about this chapter and thanks for reading!

Sarah


	8. Chapter 8 Wishing For You

Gemma

A hazy green fills my vision like smoke drifting from a poisonous fire, yet it does not cloud my sight. My world is edged in the lime hue but the grass beneath my bare feet is the same softness of home. The air drifts on a gentle wind carrying the smell of apple cakes that fill me with the sweet scent. A woodpecker strikes its beak against a tree; I do not see its flashy feathers but the sound resonates throughout the valley. My home is blocking the view of the sun, its great stony walls shimmering in the morning dew against the light as grey smoke billows from the three chimneys in large puffs. Everything is as I left it: the horses grunt hungrily in the stable while my father`s men are at work around the land, harvesting honey even in the early winter. The roar of Lanka`s great waterfall thunders in the distance, welcoming me home as the white rushes meet still water. I sit up from the soft bed of grass and immediately my gaze falls on a man. At first glance I do not recognize him but slowly his features trigger a memory. My body flies upright and I run to him, this man whom I trust above every other person in my life. Tall grasses brush my legs with sweet loving hands of flowers as I rush to meet the handsome boy that left to discover the land beyond the Wall. I know his hair is as dark as mine and his face is lit with a smile that glints in the sunlight. I know his heart so bold and honest no woman could deny him, with skin turned dark from long days basking in the sun lit valley. He is tall and lean and brave and ever so comely and very much my best friend. However, when I reach him I see that the gentle boy may not exist in the man before me. The North has changed him. He looks of Danny, but drained. He lacks a luster for life in the silver eyes that seemed so abundant when I last saw him. A huge scar rips his pale face and his mouth stays downcast in an angry frown. He stands straight as ever but there is an aggressiveness in his stance that is new to me. Yet his eyes scare me the most. They are no longer a grey filled with laughter but a silver riddled in pain and anger. I stop before him, closing my outstretched arms.

"I`ve been waiting for you out here," Danny says looking away from me with a sigh. "We have much to discuss." My chest aches painfully at his emotionless formality. An onlooker would think we were arch-enemies meeting out of mutual ambitions, not brother and sister.

"I have many questions," I emit, trying to sound polite.

"I thought you might," my brother whispers with eyes still downcast. "There are some I will answer in time and others I will let you figure out on your own. For the rest, ask away."

"How are you here? I saw them bring your body back and bury you. Eli said your head, was- was split."

"My body was, my soul on the other hand was not injured."

"Then you`re really here with me? And how in seven hells did you save me from the Others if your just a ghost?" My voice grows louder with every word and an anxious shrill tone slips into every word.

"I cannot say if we are really here; who knows if you were ever really out there. But in the other place, real life maybe, I was not just me but also another. I have watched you from afar Gemma, waiting for the day when our destinies would cross once again and I could lead you to the way you need to go. I cannot make you though; you must choose it," he mentions stoically. A large figure jumps from the forest next to him then, crawling beneath the shadow of a tree. It takes me only a quick second to figure out what it is. The stripes give the great cat away, yet it is the biggest shadowcat my eyes have ever seen. Nearer to the height of horse than a dog, it stretches its long black body before placing itself next to Danny, tails slicing through the air.

"Odd, they usually don`t come out in the day," I mumble, referring to the creature beside my brother.

"Are you sure it is day?" he retorts, mouth curling into an odd smile. He leans down and pets the beast on the head before continuing. "I was killed by an army dead and cold in the night. I watched Grandfather and all our men be executed by the demons that haunt the Lands of Always Winter before they killed me." The face shows no emotion but the look that fills Danny`s eyes calls for vengeance.

"You want me to destroy the White Walkers?" I manage to spit out after a long pause. "I expect you`re holding far too much faith in me. I have neither the skill nor the strength to do that, even with an army. More experienced men have fallen in attempts to destroy them, Danny. I can`t do what you wish," I say stepping closer to my brother. He looks at me then, the first time since his death. Pale hands grip me by the shoulders, neither warm nor cold, before he speaks again.

"We were bound by blood once, Gemma, as all siblings are. But both of us know that strong bonds are made from more than just blood. I may be different than I once was but we are brother and sister all the same, if not in body than in soul. Magic still roams the world in the blood of man and beast alike. It is the reason I can still exist in the plane that you call reality, that and my friend the shadow." He gestures to the shadow cat relaxing under the tree. "Same body, separate spirits, co-existing in one body. Look to my friend the shadowcat for I will guide you through him, but you must choose for yourself the fate that awaits you." Finally, Danny thrusts me into his arms and though it is awkward I know he is still my kin. A shadow brushes the skin of my forearm where the great cat stares up with knowing eyes and the green hue of my dream fades to the grey of reality.

. . . .

Eli

I turn to Cassia and all my irritation pours out with hardly more than one breath. "Father has been spiteful since she left and mother distant from everyone. My sister ruins everything! She talks of how well she`s doing, 'where ever she is at', rising in the ranks as a warrior. Bah! She isn`t fooling me! I _know_ she went to the Night`s Watch. She would whisper about it after Danny died saying she would do it for the both of them. My sister used to chant it in her dreams. It`s tempting to tell father of all her plans so he can go and pluck Gemma from the Wall. It would please him, I know. Still, almost a year since she left he rages every other day about Gemma running away. I really should tell him, it would be sweet revenge after the blame that my siblings used to throw at me. You know, I have gotten more beatings from father than Danny and Gemma have combined, most of which were not my fault!"

"How does one manage that?" Cassia asks, prim and proper.

"I was an innocent bystander! I remember one time they were fist fighting near the barns 'practicing' they called it, and Gemma punched Danny so hard he broke through the stable doors and cracked the latch in half so all of the horses ran free. When father came around to finding the culprit, Danny told him that I was climbing the door and it broke. What a stupid lie! I can`t believe father believed that mongrel. And when father had hit me, Gemma had the gall to laugh." At this Cassia makes a sympathetic face. "I know, she`s such a brat! I hope father disciplines her good when she comes home. Payback!" For some reason, Cassia laughs at my irritation, a light twinkle on the wind. Her emerald eyes glisten with the smile and her golden hair flutters about her, falling all the way to the waist of her purple silk dress. She is ever so comely, inside and out. Mother and Cassia get along famously; after all they are both rather proper and sweet.

"Do you smell the crumb cakes?" She asks, her perfectly upturned nose sniffing the air dreamily.

"Of course: would you like some? Tabitha said they were close to being done when I last passed through the kitchens," I say, a smile finally gracing my face. Cassia takes my arm then and I lead her to the keep. "I`ll meet you in the library," I mutter before departing from the girl. After my betrothed leaves, I find mother in father`s study, chatting with Septa Vilia. "Mother, Septa Vila," I proclaim valiantly, "would you join me and Cassia for tea?"

"It`s Cassia and I, my sweet," mother suggests with a smile. "But yes I would love to have tea with you." She kisses my forehead as she passes.

"That sounds lovely," the Septa agrees. I lead them to the library where Cassia awaits us. When our small party arrives, the ornate white chairs are already arranged around the matching table with a porcelain kettle and four cups placed in front of the chairs. She stands when we approach, first kissing my mother on the cheek, then the Septa, and finally me. My cheeks burn where her lips brush my skin, but I ignore my embarrassment and pull out her chair for her. A girl from the kitchens, Freida I believe, and pours each of us a cup of the lavender tea, the steam rising into the air.

"You look lovelier than usual today, Lady Amador," Cassia conveys politely, taking a dainty sip of tea.

"I should say the same for you cousin. Did you and Eli have a nice walk along the river?" Mother asks, her eyes lighting up just looking at the two of us.

"T`was wonderful; I especially love the golden fish in the water!" Cassia exclaims pulling golden tendrils of hair from her face. Tabitha places the crumb cakes on the table in front of us as well as dragon pears cut from their shell. Immediately I snatch a cake from the tray and devour the buttery crumbles smothered in sweet sticky honey. The cake breaks apart in my mouth, the warm sweetness melting on my tongue delightfully.

"Ah, yes! They are so mystifying your little fish are. There`s nothing like them at the Crag!" Septa Vilia proclaims. Her outstretched hand reaches from a cake as well. "Have you heard any news from your mother and father Cassia?"

"Not yet but I imagine they will write soon." All the talk of letters reminds me of the previous rant I expressed to Cassia.

"_I_ gobt a letbter," I say smiling slyly at mother with mouth full of cake.

"Well, out with it child! Don`t just leave us waiting, it`s rude!" The Septa utters, her prim voice dripping with annoyance at my sudden lack of manners.

"Gemma thought of us after nearly a year of wondering where she had gotten off to. Isn`t it nice that she gives us news after so long. Such a reliable sister I ha-," mother stands from the table, smile faded and brown eyes glaring anxiously at me.

"Where is this letter?" The fun drains from my being as well as Cassia next to me as mother frets about Gemma. Gods, she ruins _everything _even when she isn`t here. "You will take me to see this letter Eli." Gingerly, I leave behind my half-eaten crumb cake to lead mother to my quarters where the letter lies underneath the green quilt atop my bed. When I place the letter into mother`s sweaty hands her eyes dart over the words nervously taking in the information. Finally she looks away from the letter, clutching it to her chest as tears gather in her eyes. Mother slowly walks towards the chair in front of my empty fireplace and falls into it weakly.

"You will keep all of this from your father," she whispers, eyes boring into the wall.

"Don`t you want her to come home?" I ask, my voice quiet and soft.

She pauses and wipes at her tear stained cheeks before answering. "I would like nothing more than for Gemma to come home, but I don`t think she will." With that mother breaks and her chest heaves with violent quakes as the tears stream down her face. I`ve never seen her react in such a way, not even when my father laid her oldest son into his grave. Reluctantly, I move towards my mother and grasp her hands in an attempt to comfort her.

.

At supper a few hours later, mother is much her usual self, though her lack of opinions on father`s work is apparent. Father`s work with the bees generally piques my interest but today I cannot seem to even feign interest in the subject. Father`s dark mustache moves as he prattles on about his day: I am grateful to Cassia and the Septa Vilia who focus in on my father intently. He could get irritated if he caught on to my disinterest. I pick at the roasted duck on my plate, too preoccupied with my thoughts to eat.

"You seem glum today, little one," father mentions smiling broadly as if everything was just perfect. As if there weren`t three people missing from the table for various horrible reasons. Grandfather and Danny dead in the ground while Gemma ranges up in the North, facing dangers I can`t even imagine.

"I`ve just not been sleeping well," I manage to utter. "May I be excused? A walk may just clear my head." The Septa smiles at my manners from across the table.

"Of course, fresh air will do you good," he says giving my back a gentle pat.

"I would like to join him if you don`t mind, My`lord?" Cassia imputes before I can leave. Father nods his approval but Septa Vilia attempts to stop my betrothed before she rises.

"It is unfit for a lady to be escorted without proper supervision! Will you just let them go off so improperly?" She asks my father shrilly.

Father`s small flab of a belly heaves with laughter at her outburst. "Ah, let the young love bloom! Promise me you will be good son?" He turns towards me with a bright smile.

"What else am I but good?" I respond, providing a weak smile before taking Cassia`s arm. We are silent until the trees loom overhead and the lilies burst in the midnight air. It is early in the evening but the moon shines bright overhead causing the beautiful wonderland of Lanka`s Falls to spring with luminescent life. The flowers, the fish, even the keep itself seem to glow with light against the moon. Most nights I would fill with wonder and pride for my home, but tonight the sight is wasted on me.

"I worry for Gemma," I say with hesitation, looking everywhere but my companion. "She`s a ranger now, she could get hurt, she could even . . . you know."

"I do not know your sister," Cassia says after a long pause. "But she seems to be the kind of woman that can take care of herself. She`s strong as you say. I wish I was more like that really."

"Don`t be silly!" I exclaim turning towards her finally. "You`re perfect Cassia Westerling! I could ask for no more perfect a bride or friend. My sister gets into trouble with her stubbornness. Or she gets me into trouble with it more likely." Her blush goes away with the laugh that I had hoped she would emit. "Have I told you how Gemma has always been a better archer than me? She is better than anyone in the Valley. She used to take bets with Danny and grandfather at how far she could spy an apple from a tree in the woods and shoot it. And Danny! He was so fast with a sword, even well trained Knights would be knocked flat on their bums before they could get a strike in. Everyone thought he would follow in Grandfather`s footsteps to become the Young Explorer but . . ." I trail off not wanting to finish that sentence, knowing that Danny can`t come back. Cassia grabs my hand then, trying to comfort me. "I don`t want to be the only one left for mother and father. Gemma needs to come back; they miss her. I can see it even in father sometimes. I miss her. I can`t even imagine if they bring her back like Danny. I just want her to-" I choke on tears then, not wanting to imagine my sister at her funeral but the image comes up anyways. Her long brown hair scattered around her face, in a white silk dress with the midnight lilies placed on her chest, face lacking the slight color that generally deigns her cheeks. Cassia wraps me in her arms, allowing me to lean on her as the tears fall. She cradles me against her, shooshing my sobs and loving me as I never thought possible. She kisses a cheek and then holds my face becoming more brazen. Her mouth finds mine, sweet and gentle just as she is. And then it is gone leaving me full and warm despite the dismal thoughts of my sister.

"Thank you," I whisper grateful for a friend who will listen to my whimpering.

. . .

Gemma

When I awaken from the dream the shadowcat lies next to me deep in slumber, Danny nowhere in sight. I search for him in the light of the dwindling fire, I even call for him, but he never comes. At the call, the shadowcat arises from the fire and walks to me. As it sits on muscled haunches, I see the silver eyes glistening in the light of the flames and know the meaning of my brother`s words from the dream. The cat is nearly taller than I am while sitting and when I throw my arms around its neck it stiffens, as if my touch makes him uncomfortable.

"If two souls are bound in one body, may I still call you Danny?" He sweeps away from me with tail twitching, yet, when he looks back I can tell that his eyes are not angry. I suppose he doesn`t mind the former name. I follow him out into the snow, pulling my cloak around me tight against the wicked wind. We walk for hours it seems with no protection against the cold except for the clothes of the Night`s Watch that protect my frame. Eventually, the cat leading is lost in the turmoil of the snow and wind, so I run in the direction that I saw him last. When I catch up to the black form, the cat digs at something in the snow, wrenching at it with its teeth until it springs free.

The leather of my belt is cold against my skin, but it buckles on all the same. I touch the familiar knifes and the hilt of my sword as well as the dragonglass dagger that saved my life before helping Danny dig the next item out. My bow and quiver are released from the ice and fit well on my back. The shadowcat moves to a third figure embedded in the ice. I crawl over to help it, but a great hiss rumbles through the cat stopping me in my tracks. Silver eyes pierce my own, the shadowcat's stare harsh and angry, warding me away. He rips and tears into the snow until meat and bone fill the great caverns of Danny`s mouth instead of snow. He pulls a decomposing head of a large animal. I recognize the brown fur with white speckled spots as Mira. My body moves towards the cat now and it again fixes me with a threatening glare before tearing into the head. Through the tears that cloud my vision and roll down my cheeks I see the grey skin and muscle ripping away from my old friend and I do nothing to hide the pain stretching in my body. When my companion has had its fill of the horse it saunters away into the snow, undisturbed by the sobs that wrack my body. I walk behind it back to the cave but stumble in the snow, landing face first. I curl into myself, hoping that the cold will take me and I will not have to watch the monster that is now my brother. My skin tingles when I feel eyes on me. The shadowcat stands over me, blocking the light of the sun, silent as death. He leans down as if to allow me on his back but I only spit at him. Our gazes meet again before I speak.

"I shan`t call you Danny," I say, tears choking my throat. "You are no longer him and don`t deserve such a name. No, you are terrible, a monster come back to haunt me! You are death and pain and suffering, not my brother. From now on you are Stranger! For you are as ugly and cruel as the Stranger of the seven is!" I run from the beast then until the cave opens up from the ground and I throw myself in it. I thrust logs and rocks at the cave walls, ruing the day that the great cat saved me. He does not come back for days it seems. When Stranger saunters in silently he places a large rabbit next to the fire and curls up in the corner, far from me. I am still vexed by his brutality and at first I make no move towards his offer. When my head spins and my stomach clenches painfully I skin the rabbit, put it on a spit, and let it roast over the fire. Stranger rises as if thinking he is let free from my fury and as he comes closer I throw a rock at him, glaring with the same vehemence that he had shown me earlier. He hisses in anger as the blow forces the cat to recoil and his tail whips around, obviously outraged. The shadowcat retreats out into the frigid night.

. . .

With this in mind, we learn to tolerate each other in the wilderness though a sense of detachment lingers in our relationship. In truth, I feel sorry for acting in such a way; Mira was already dead after all. Still I cannot find the courage to tell my companion this. Pride is a stubborn beast struggling with the dwindling dignity within me. Because of this incident, we stay away from one another most of the time. Stranger hunts off on his own while I drift through the trees, sometimes practicing swordplay or hunting for myself. Durandal becomes more comfortable in my arms as my strength grows. I am no longer awkward with it and the blade begins to feel as a sword should feel; the extension of one`s hand. As I train with it one day, a group of large deer come charging by, scared away by some beast. I assume it is Stranger, but my guess turns out to be wrong. When a rumble erupts causing the earth to tremble, I sheath my sword and turn to investigate. Stranger dives underneath me, throwing me to his back in panicked frenzy. He sprints away, faster than any stallion and silent as ever. I turn to look behind us and a huge white figure, as tall at the trees, looms behind, trailing in our wake. Its eight legs twist unnaturally in the snow and the screech of wights cuts shrilly through the air. The creatures never catch up to us for Stanger`s long limbs carry me away from any danger.

We climb partway up a mountain to get away from them. It impresses me how the shadowcat can climb up the slanted, glossy rocks with ease even though I cling to his back. When we reach an opening high in the sky, he delves into the cave heaving and puffing from the trek into the sky. The screeches fill the air for the next few days and we go quite hungry in the cave, with the exception being a mountain goat that trots into the cavern but not out. Stanger pounces on it before the creature knows that it awaits death and with a pitiless crack of its spine, our dinner is captured. It is foolish to light a fire lest we be seen, but I am so hungry it matters not: I devour a leg raw, though the meat nearly slides back up my throat several times from my disgust of the gore. The pool of water deep in the cavern hydrates Stanger and I, always leaving my insides feeling frozen. For the first time the large cat and I are forced to huddle together for warmth. It is awkward when we start, but then I learn to relish the closeness and cuddle up to the beast. Even with Stranger so close, these moments are when the awful cold and loneliness disturb me deep in the night and my thoughts wander to Jon.

"I pray he is alive," I say, voice finally slipping out after the sustained silence with Stanger. The black beast turns to me then, interested in my words even if he cannot express his own. "There was a man at the Watch. My only rival truly, but he was so much more than that." My protector`s tail flicks, urging me on.

"I think you would have liked him, he was sturdy, on all levels of the word. He saved my life once, from a bear. So handsome, that one. His hair is lovely black curls with these dark eyes so brown and soft and gentle and he`s tall, or at least taller than I am which isn`t such a feat. He`s a Stark but not truly because his mother was base born apparently. There`s this wolf that follows him, well Direwolf, such a lovely thing with white fur and red eyes. I bet Ghost is even bigger than you by now." _If he`s still alive_, I think. Stranger nudges my arm, urging me to continue. "Jon is . . . very honorable. That`s what tore us apart really." My lips tingle at the memory of Jon`s kiss and I miss it. I miss his smell of musk and fresh woodsy air and his warm embrace and the hands that wandered only slightly. I wish suddenly that I would have thrown my honor aside and let Jon claim me as husband does their wife. Just that one memory would have made the love we shared that much more real and true.

"I wish I could kiss him," I say suddenly. In the darkness next to me, Stranger snorts. He lies his huge black face next to my own, hot breath tickling my cheek. I bask in the silence, thinking about Jon in ways that are considered improper. Oddly, a random thought enters my head breaking through the blissful thoughts.

"How did my leg heal so fast? That wound was mortal," I ask him, though I know he cannot answer. In the darkness, Stranger`s silver eyes reflect the moon, so I notice when he shakes his head left to right, as if saying "no".

"You don`t want to tell me? You can`t really tell me anyways, so I suppose it doesn`t matter. I suppose it is strange that I miraculously heal under your care. Don`t tell me, you`re a healer too?" Stranger shakes his head "no" again. "Good, that would be much too weird. My brother that warged into the body of a beast upon his death is almost becoming normal now, but a healer as well? That`s bordering on a some level of insanity, no one would ever believe me." I chuckle at that and let sleep take me before the questions keep me awake for the entire night.

. . . .

Jon

She is truly kissed by fire, and so am I by being hers. Fire is worth more than my honor, so I left it lying with my clothes on the floor of the cave while the flames consume me. Her voice fills the cave, growing louder with every thrust and I know I love her. It is unspoken love, but I feel it nonetheless, settling in my heart with ease. Ygritte nuzzles her face into my shoulder while her hands grasp at my back. I kiss her as I push myself into her once again, willing my body to keep control. I see how her love grows for me as well from the fevered look in her green eyes. I see both laughter and lust in them; her happy demeanor is new to me but much appreciated. Around her I am welcomed into a life impossible below the Wall.

"Jon," she whispers against my ear, kissing my cheek. Her womb contracts then, beautiful eyes rolling back in her head as she mewls and squeaks beneath me. I come undone within her, my kiss finding her mouth as we fully melt into one being. After a while, I feel her sleeping beside me and my mind wanders to Castle Black. Should I go back? How can I leave Ygritte when I have claimed her as my wife? Fear strikes me suddenly when I consider other matters. How will Gemma react when she learns of my escapades beyond the Wall? I owe her nothing after all, since she declared that her love was false upon our last meeting but still I worry that she would react to my change in demeanor _if_ I return to the Watch. I realize that what was certain only months ago is now an "if". I do miss my friends, Gemma especially, but my heart beats for Ygritte all the same. I wholly believe Gemma and I could have loved as intensely as Ygritte and I do, but our honor prevented us from getting that far. The same honor that lies discarded on the floor of the torch lit cave.

I dress myself before placing a gentle kiss on Ygritte`s forehead and leaving the safety of the vast cave. As the sun rises, the world is painted in pink, with the undertone of gold sparkling across the snow. Ghost trots over to me, tongue exposed and red eyes wild. I kneel to him explaining the plan. My friend is nonchalant about the orders, as if he doesn`t understand, though I know he does. It seems my companion has become attached to the land beyond the Wall as well.

"We need to return to the Night`s Watch," I whisper, running my fingers in his thick coat. With that he runs in a direction opposite of me, fading into the snowy landscape until my weak eyes can no longer pick him out against the snow. With a heart heavy from guilt, I return back to the cave, hoping this day will not be one of my last with Ygritte. Considering that I know she will not let me leave without a fight, it may well be.

. . . .

**Author`s note **

**Ok so I`m sorry for all of the changing POVs but the chapter and the one before are setting up main events in the story line that are going to lead Gemma and Jon back to one another, I promise. Soon there will be tension between them and the main part of the story will continue. Also, Eli`s chapter is not just a random filler, he will play a part in this too. Next chapter will consist of Jon and Eli having big events and may be a bit shorter than usual because Gemma is just having a ton of time pass out in the wilderness. After that I plan to reunite Jon and Gemma somewhat. What I wanted to ask is how you all feel about having another love interest for Gemma? I was thinking maybe someone from the Night`s Watch but I wanted to see what ideas my readers have as well so leave a review or something to tell me who you are thinking. **

**To the Guest who reviewed:**

**Thanks for the review and interest in my story! Sorry that Jon and Gemma have spent so little time together I`ve been more focused on building the story up so far but it is coming, they will meet again very soon. **


	9. Chapter 9 When Daydreams End

**I don`t own any of ASOIAF only Gemma and Eli. Big spoilers in this chapter!**

Jon

Black steaming blood leaps from his thigh in thick droplets, a trail of dark splotches staining the snow behind him. The stolen mare grunts and protests beneath his heavy figure, but he urges her on with a gentle kick. Pain lurches up his hip from where the arrow struck his leg, his head a woozy blur, hands gripping the horse for dear life. I need to be still as my companion carries me, lest I rip myself open once again. An empty Kingsroad stretches before him towards the ebony wall of ice. _Home_, he thinks upon seeing the black structure glistening before him. A heat stretches through Jon, not the kind he wishes for but one that is sick and deadly. The spurting blood slows and slows until the river is run dry and his leg is solid and numb as wood. Dead, heavy wood, pulling him sideways as if to unhorse him, and leave him stranded and death-bound in the wispy snow. Yet, shaking fingers grasp the mare`s mane in desperation, the young man determined to stay on the animal`s back. Already I miss Ygritte. Her hair, her warmth, her mouth . . . _You were wrong to love her and wrong to leave her_, a voice echoes sounding oddly like his Lord Father.

"But now I do my duty, though my heart begs me not to, father." I know he cannot hear me, though I wish he were here. I ride through a small sparse town and do not realize until I spy the brothel that it is Mole`s Town. The fever rises higher in me, splitting my head and drowning my spirit. I fall from the horse and slowly pull myself from the snowy ground.

"I need a fresh mount, with saddle and bridle," I shout in an authoritative tone that ill fits my wounded state. It works all the same, rousing the two stable boys from their beds to find a suitable gelding. "Wake the village. Warn them. There are wildings south of the Wall. Gather your goods and make for Castle Black." The boys jolt away then, rushing to awake the town sleeping in their huddles beneath the ground. He rides on faster now, the saddle holding him to the horse though he sways dangerously on the animal`s back. Soon, the stone towers of Castle Black hover over him yet no fires among the stone fortress are to be seen. Castle Black seems empty. However, smoke rises in thin grey wisps from the armory chimney, only just visible in the blackened night. With this strike of hope, it is to the armory he rides towards. A one armed man works the bellows as his mare approaches.

"Jon Snow?" Donal Noye exclaims when hit is ears hear Jon`s approach.

"None else." My leg aches suddenly as he gently sets himself on the ground, but he smiles. It is good to be home.

The smith steps away from the bellows, a look of curiosity on his face. "Your face. . ."

"A skinchanger tried to rip out my eye," Jon replies, having nearly forgotten about the attack of Orrel the wilding`s eagle.

Noye frowns at that. "Scarred or smooth, it`s a face I thought I`d seen the last of. We heard you`d gone over to Mance Rayder."

"Who told you that?" I ask, catching the door to remain upright.

"Jarman Buckwell. He returned a fortnight past. His scouts claim they saw you with their own eyes, riding alongside a wilding column and wearing a sheepskin cloak. I see the last parts true," he says eyeing my attire.

"It`s all true as far as it goes." He replies with no hesitation. They speak of the few men still running Castle Black as Noye helps Jon get to Maester Aemon. The world spins around him when they reach the room.

"Snow, Snow, Snow," the ravens squawk in their cage. Surely that is Sam`s doing. Aemon joins the two men then, slicing Jon`s breeches and the blood that drenches them. The heavy chain of base metals swings around the Maester`s throat, a sign of his vast knowledge.

"Jon Snow, you must tell me all you`ve seen and done when you are stronger. Donal, put the kettle of wine on the fire and my irons as well. I will want them red hot. Clydas I shall need that good sharp knife of yours." Even with the milky blind eyes, Aemon knows this room.

"There are wildings coming, from the south. We climbed the Wall," I reply trying to stay awake as the fever blazes inside of me.

"We?" Aemon asks with a brief pause.

"I was with them. Qhorin Halfhand commanded me to join them." Aemon`s finger poke at the wound gently. "The Magnar of Thenn – ahhhh that hurts," he whimpers trying to clench his teeth against the pain. "Where is the Old Bear?"

"Jon. . . It greives me to say, but Lord Commader Mormont was murdered at Craster`s Keep, at the hands of his Sworn Brothers."

"Bro. . . _Our own men_!?" Aemon`s words send a new wave of pain over him. I remember Mormont as I last saw him, with his raven perched on his arm begging for corn, every bit the usual. "Who was it? Who turned on him?"

"Garth of Oldtown, Ollo Lophand, Dirk . . . thieves, cowards and killers, the lot of them. We should have seen it coming." Aemon sighs working on my wound. "The Watch is not what it was. Too few honest men to keep the rouges in line. A dozen true men made it back. Dolorous Edd, Giant, your friend the Aurochs. We heard the tale from them." We speak more of the wildings, until I confess even my sins with Ygritte to them.

"I wasn`t strong enough. The Halfhand commanded me, ride with them, watch, I must not balk, I . . ." tears start to form and fall at my feverish confession.

After the wound is washed and drained, Aemon grasps a wide blade, glowing bright red from the fire. _I will not scream_, I tell myself, but even that vow is broken as they press the blade to my open wound. I pound my fist on the table in agony, though with much effort the rest of my body stays still. I think of the girl kissed by fire then. _I`m sorry Ygritte. I had to, I`m sorry_. I wish I could tell her, wish I could see her in this agony that she would help me through. I wish we had just stayed in that damn cave. The pain ebbs through me as they pull the knife away and when it again kisses my tender flesh, the world fades around me.

I wake on and off in feverish bursts caused by milk of the poppy. On one occasion, Pyp and Grenn speak of bad news.

"He might still be alive," Pyp says, speaking of Sam. "He might surprise us all and come riding up tomorrow."

"With Mance Rayder`s head, aye." Grenn laughed, trying to lighten his wounded friend`s mood. "Sam the slayer!"

"And Glenn?" I ask tiredly.

Pyp and Grenn meet eyes then, a sad glance of knowing. "He rode off just after the battle at the Fist of the First Men, Jon. He led away a group of wights."

"There was no way he survived. He gave me the torch before leading them off and hasn`t been seen or heard about since," Grenn looks away remembering the moment. They are most likely dead, and that anger burns somewhere inside, yet through his anger a sadness plagues him as well. "There`s even more too Jon."

"It`s too much for now, he doesn`t need to know yet Grenn," Pyp sighs. Aemon walks over to the men gathered around his bedside, ignoring his brothers` banter.

"Be strong, Jon. Winterfell is no more," the old man says, blind eyes staring down in his direction.

"No more?" Jon`s voice is weak and cracks at the words. "My brothers are at Winterfell. Bran and Rickon!" It doesn`t make sense, Summer was at the tower where Ygritte shot him. . .

"I`m sorry Jon," Pyp says, squeezing his shoulder gently. "We all are."

. . .

He awoke to the sound of Mole`s Town burning. I hobble down the steps of the King`s Tower on a measly wooden crutch toward the armory. Noye protests at my determination to fight, but with persistence, I manage to get a longbow out of him. I wait in a tower with Satin and Owen the builder, watching for the wildings to approach like the coming sunrise, only grey and brown and black. As the wildings run towards my outnumbered brothers, I draw back a goose fletched arrow and let it fly. It strikes a man in the eye as he leaves the shadows. He does not rise again. For every man I kill, another takes their place in the trees, aiming to kill my brothers.

_Ygritte, I pray you stayed south to raid. Please, stay away_. It is not until later when I catch the sight of long red hair passing behind a tower that I know she is hear and fear for the girl kissed by fire. I bring up my bow as if to do it myself, but the fingers will not release the arrow. Before he can blink, the red is gone. A moment later, the trapdoor to the tower is creaking open and Longclaw is released from its sheath. I bury it in the head that burst forth from beneath.

"Satin, the oil!" I yell pointing towards the iron kettle he stands next to. As the Thenns gather to climb the ladder my brother and I pour the scalding hot substance on them, melting skin from bone. The screams echo throughout my ears deafening me while Satin and Owen look as if they might vomit. I place the heavy kettle over the trapdoor and give my dark haired friend a wild shake. "Retch later." As I glance out into the battle I notice that only a dozen men in black cloaks are left fighting. The wildings gather at the entrance to Castle Black, trying to scale the barricade. A warhorn sounds, long and low in the night, from atop the Castle nearly 200 feet up. Fiery arrows rain down upon the barricade of sacks and alcohol soaked wool and wood where the fire catches as planned. When Jon runs out of arrows, he throws burning wood from the tower, catching the wildings in the blaze. As the battle dies Owen and Satin help me from the tower, my leg a throbbing reminder of my time as a Free Man. In the yard, his two brothers help him search through the mutilated bodies for a girl kissed by fire. He finds many Thenns still burning with long black open wounds and faces, the smell of burning flesh invading his nose. He finds some wilding friends, Quort and Stone Thumbs dying in the rubble. Then Big Boil, lifeless in a pool of blood. He felt sad for them, guilty too, but his grief for the Free Folk paled in comparison to the wave of emotions that came upon him when he found _her_. Ygritte lay beneath the Lord Commander`s tower, an arrow lodged between her breasts. She seemed to wear a glittering mask as the ice crystals settled on her face. The arrow in her is black, not fletched with white duck feathers as mine are. I kneel in the snow beside her, the white crunching beneath my weight.

"Jon Snow," she says her voice a soft whistle, as if the arrow punctured a lung. "Is this a proper castle now? Not just a tower?"

I grasp her hand with overwhelming dread. "It is."

"Good. I wanted t` see one proper castle, before. . . before I. . ."

"You`ll see a hundred castles. The battle`s done. Maester Aemon will see to you." I touch her hair gently, running my finger through the beautiful red strands. "You`re kissed by fire remember? Lucky. It will take more than an arrow to kill you. Aemon will draw it out and patch you up, and we`ll get you some milk of the poppy for the pain."

"D`you remember the cave? We should have stayed in that cave I told you so." I have to lean close to her lips to hear her words: She strains to speak.

"We`ll go to the cave. You`re not going to die Ygritte, you`re not." At my desperate attempts to sooth us both, the tears flow silently onto my cheeks.

Ygritte cups her hand to his cheek trying to wipe them away. "Oh. . . You know nothing Jon Snow." With a final sigh, she dies, and my tears drip onto her face. The girl kissed by fire`s empty green eyes bore into my own before I close them for the last time.

. . . .

Eli

The grass is rich and cool beneath me while the dirt mucks the blue linen clothes I wear: I care not. My mind stays focused on the girl by my side. Her kiss is slow and yearning, with soft lips pressed against my own. She giggles against me, girlish and sweet when I brazenly brush my tongue against her mouth.

"It is too soon for such things," she whispers, but her eyes disagree with her words.

"We are to be married! Does it matter if I kiss you now or later, truly?"

Cassia pushes herself from the ground, her golden hair tumbling about her shoulders as she rises. "Septa Villa would not approve of such _behavior_," my betrothed mentions giving me a mocking glare.

"Well Septa Villa is not here!" I stand and pull her to me as if we are to dancing to music unheard among the trees.

"You have your brother`s spirit in you, always breaking the rules." Cassia`s comparison is innocent, but I feel the blow in my gut all the same. My feet stop dancing to the imaginary music.

"Did my brother ever kiss you?" I ask, referring to the man she was once sworn to marry. Her face falters then.

"Your brother and I only ever met the once before he left for the North. When your father took me for his ward. We barely knew each other. Why should we have kissed?"

"He was supposed to be your love," I say. "I was jealous of how you swooned over him when you first arrived. I`d never seen a girl so beautiful, ever."

She considers her words carefully before proceeding. "Your brother was comely yes, very much so. Yet I did not know him as I know you. I love you with all my heart Eli Amador, son of the Waterfall and heir to the Land of Lanka: I wish to be your Lady Wife." A wide smile graces her face then and with mocking tone she says, "besides, you look as he did with lighter hair." I make a move to tickle her sides, but let myself be serious, heart warmed by her words. I kneel in the grass next to the great waterfall that is my birthright and stare up at the girl of my dreams.

"And you Cassia Westerling of the Crag and the two towers, have no match for beauty of any kind in all the land. There is no better woman to help me run these lands than you and on the morrow you shall have your wish; we will be married soon enough."

"I must say I don`t remember your brother having such a flair for drama," she chuckles, hand tracing my face. "And my cousin quite outmatches me in beauty."

"The Queen?! Aye, you both have Lannister blood but such a statement is a lie and a bad one at that! When she marched down the Kingsroad so long ago with Robert I remember her face, cold and cruel and ugly though by definition fair. You are far too sweet to have contest from the likes of a frigid lioness such as Cercei Lannister."

"You say such things! If she were hear you may very well lose your pretty head for that, Eli."

"My point exactly," I say with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders. We walk back to the keep where dinner awaits us but are detained by the ever irritating Septa Villa. She gripes about the state of our clothes until we are forced to change. By the time Cassia and I grace my mother and father with our presence, supper is half over. There are many guests tonight for my father`s men have been wanting to celebrate as my wedding day approaches. Father laughs with them at their stories from their posts and even Mother seems more chipper than usual. The air is sweet and life is blissful, I realize as I stare at Cassia across the table, nibbling on her small bit of lamb. And she makes it so.

Edwin the bird trainer storms into the feast, a fearful look upon his face. "M`lord there has been a letter sent for you!" He forgets to bow but instead goes straight to my father, kneeling before him with the splotches of bird dung on his woolen coverlet.

"I`m sure it can wait for after dinner or even the morrow, Edwin. Yes, we will discuss it in the morning," father booms before turning back to the boisterous table.

"M`lord, forgive me but it comes from the Blackfish! He stresses that the letter must be addressed immediately!" Both Mother and Father look up at that, the seriousness dawning on them. They arise from the long oaken table simultaneously and walk briskly towards the rookery with Edwin, Mother muttering apologies to everyone as they pass. The table quiets after that, my father`s men choosing to pick at their food rather than go back to their rambunctious moods. Cassia announces to the Septa that she is not hungry anymore and would like a walk in the garden, preferably with me. When I accept, Septa Villa protests, until I remind her that we will be married in less than a fortnight, as if she could forget. Cassia and I do go outside, if only for a moment, before we return to the Keep through the kitchens, wanting to stay unseen. We climb the stairs and moonlit towers to the very tallest point of the Moonlit Keep. The thin oak door hides no sound as we sit next to it, eagerly listening to the conversation within.

"We should speak to the knights, Norne. What if they come for us?! We have never had good relations with the Freys, Lord Walder would bear no guilt in tearing down what little we have in the Valley," Mother says with worry seeping into her voice.

"Cassia`s mother was a Frey, a daughter of Walder`s! He would not dare attack us: Our families will be joined by marriage soon!" I hear father`s heavy boots scuffing the floor as he paces.

"We have supported the King in the North through this war! We have given them food, and shelter, and the few men of arms that we can spare. The Freys could attack and take Cassia away and feel none the worse for it! Robb Stark is dead, Norne! And we are banner men of the Tully`s! We are not safe here! We should join Brynden Tully at Riverrun and help him defend the Trident."

"Calixta, you would have me desert my own land! Where is the courage in that? The Valley of the Moon has not been invaded since Lanka fist settled here. We are joyous people not fighters! It is the mountains that guard us. The Freys will not come for us and the Blackfish is far, far away from the Twins, he does not know what he has heard, I swear it. Not even Walder Frey would dishonor the Gods and kill his own guests."

"You are ignorant if you believe that! For the love you bear your son, send him away if you do not believe this warning, please, Norne!" Mother weeps then, I hear her sobs from behind the door. Cassia reaches over to me and grasps my hand tightly, fear blatant on her face.

"There is no danger woman! Stop your worrying, Brynden Tully knows not what he speaks of." Footsteps come near the door and I grab Cassia`s hand and pull her from the scene about to pour into the stairway. We rush through the castle, uncaring about the eyes that spy us together. When we are far away from the rookery, I turn back towards my beloved, panting from the run.

"Cassia, gather your things together, as little as you can manage. Be prepared to leave should the Freys attack!" I say gently grabbing her shoulders.

"We should have a secret meeting place," she offers with hands holding tight to my arms.

"The falls! I will have a horse prepared just in case and if the horns sound you go there and I will meet you."

"And if you do not come?" She asks, green eyes growing more worried as we speak.

"Then head North to the Karstarks or south to the Tully`s, but try and follow the Kingsroad. If you keep going North and can cross the river and it will be there. Let it lead you." I urge her to gather her things while I move to find my own. Instead of heading towards my chambers, I walk briskly to the armory. Lander, my father`s master at arms, is not there thankfully, so I look for the familiar sword sheathed in silver. Wrapped in a green cloth bag under two very heavy hammers, I find the blade. My grandfather`s sword sparkles in the little bits of light and I hide it underneath my coat when I return to the bright night. Quickly, I set a saddle out in the shadows next to a huge black stallion so it is ready if need be. I gather food from the trees and fill the green bag before I sneak into the kitchens gathering preserves and honey and dried meat. I steal two skins of spiced wine to hide and finally head towards my chambers. When I enter though, I am not alone. Mother waits in a chair next to the fire.

She stands when my footsteps reveal my presence and glances down to my bag of stolen goods. "It seems I have done well as a mother. You are smarter than your father." She laughs then, a sad daunting laugh.

"I`m sorry, I shouldn`t have mother, but I`m so scared for Cassia. I have to keep her safe."

"There is no need to apologize. You should leave now and be done with it."

"The Septa would notice, as would Father. And what if no one comes? Then we will be lost with no way to be sent back," I say, putting the items underneath my bed.

"I feared you would say that. There are things that need to be put into place then, if such things do come in the night." Mother leads me out of the room and up a flight of stairs towards the library. Once there, she climbs the ladder and pulls a book down off the top shelf. Upon opening it I see that the book is empty of everything except a small key. Mother motions for me to follow her to the ancient desk by the windows. She twists the key in and opens a drawer. "These maps were your grandfathers. He knew ways through the wilderness that few men can say they saw and lived to tell a soul. Gemma took two when she left, but there are six here; five for Westeros and one for when your grandfather travelled to Bravos. Put them with your things. If ruin should come to the Valley of the Moon they would do well to stay in the hands of an Amador. Should you need them they will be hard to read, for many of the routes your grandfather found were not roads but old trails overgrown with wildlife." Mother hands me the dusty papers to gather her own things. When I reach my room I fold them gently place them in my bag when the door opens once again.

"It is done," Cassia says throwing her arms around me in a nervous flurry.

"Do not fret; if they catch you the Freys will do you no harm. You are their kin," I whisper smoothing my hands over her hair.

"And you? They will kill you and all your family!"

"Ha! As if they could catch me! If need be I`ll hide in the falls for a week or two. The Freys will never find me! You have no need to worry sweet one." She takes comfort in my boastful lie.

. . .

After a moon passes, I presume that the Freys will not come for us and let my guard down. It saddens me that my wedding was postponed for nothing. The Gods curse me for that insolence. The night before my wedding I hear the screams of dying men on the road east. I gather my things and throw on what little armor exists in my abode before I carry my pack and sword into the hall. Madness has erupted. Servants scramble for weapons and gold and food while Knights don their armor and kiss their ladies before heading out into the night. I see Father among them, strapping a steel sword to himself while holding Mother in a tight worried embrace.

"What good is it that I marry a smart woman but do not head her counsel, eh? I`m sorry Calixta." Father pauses as he spies me in the busy hall. I rush to meet him. "Eli, go south to the Tullys, the Blackfish is fierce; he will care for you. Take your mother. Remember the blood of Lanka lives and dies with you, the line must continue on!"

"Wait Father! What about Gemma and you? You can leave with us and we`ll find her together!"

"You`re a good lad," the Lord of the Valley says mussing my hair. "Find your sister then, and tell her that I love her, even though she ran away, I do. And I love you my little Eli."

"Leave with us Norne! The Valley will never survive an attack; only two dozen can bear arms here if that! Have your men leave and we`ll all go to Riverrun. Please!" Mother begs grasping at his shoulders and hands.

"My father always said I lacked courage. I`ll prove him wrong and protect our home before I meet him." He kisses mother then, long and sad. "Go the both of you." We run from him then and I pray Cassia awaits us at the falls next to the heart tree. I saddle the large black stallion while Mother prepares a gentle spotted gelding for the ride. We mount but not before men break into the stables. Mother takes off into the night and I follow, arrows whizzing by our heads. Most of the men I can avoid, but the ones that come too close I strike at with my sword. If it does not kill them they do keep their distance, of which I am grateful for. It is odd that the sigil on the breast of our enemies is not of the blue towers of the house of Frey but a man flayed and bloody. We leave our pursuers long behind but the clash of battle resonates throughout the wood as we halt by the waterfall. Cassia is nowhere to be found.

I search for her among the brush, listening for her footsteps and calling her name as loudly as I dare. Mother pulls the horses away from the trail lest they be seen and softly calls for her too. It is not until I hear a soft whimper and a laugh that I realize where Cassia is. Mother and I glance at each other gathering ourselves low to the ground. I look through a small hole in the bushes to see a grisly scene before me. Cassia`s form lies draped over a huge rock, her alabaster skin pure and glowing in the moonlight. Her dress is torn from her body lying in pieces all around her as she moans and cries from the man assaulting her. The dirty man with darkened hair grunts and pulls at Cassia`s yellow mane as he plunges himself into her painfully. When she cries out too loud her smacks at her delicate head and shushes her. I pull grandfather`s sword free and lurch at him, forgetting to be quiet. He hears me and pushes Cassia away, into the rock. He draws his blade but moves slow with his breeches around his ankles and trips. I swing at him with the sword, drawing blood on the first try. The man falls down and I strike over and over until his spine snaps and his body lies in two red pieces. I find Mother leaning over my bride, stroking the golden hair I loved so well, tears on her face. Cassia lays sprawled out by the rock, her fragile head dented where she was thrust into the huge stone. I find myself on the ground next to her, unsure of how I got there, cradling her naked body against me, for the first and last time.

"I`m so sorry. . . It`s all my fault. I should have been here and this would have never happened. I`m sorry. . . Cassia. I love you, I`m sorry," I continue to mutter helpless words until the sound of horses tears me back to reality. I don`t want to leave her. Mother pulls at me, straining to yank me away from Cassia`s lifeless body while I sob over her, useless. With a kiss on her pale cheek, I let Mother drag me away from the girl that would have been my wife in only hours.

. . .

We ride for days in silence, not stopping at an inn for nearly three days. I still cannot sleep or eat the image of Cassia`s death haunts me so. It is only when we stop that we realize that Mother and I are heading North, not South to Riverrun.

"We can`t turn around, we will be caught if we head south," Mother says pacing around the room, the dilemma driving her mad with worry. An idea strikes me suddenly.

"Mother, Gemma is at the Wall, with the Knight`s Watch. We`ll go to her, she`ll protects us."

"Tell me, how you would know that?" She asks, the anger erupting in her tired brown eyes.

"I know that`s where she is; she used to talk about it all the time. We have to go, we have to find her."

"She told me that`s where she was going," Mother admits, plopping down on the hay bed.

"You`ve known all this time but never told father?"

"Gemma has big dreams," the middle aged woman says in defense. "And she`s strong like Danny and your grandfather were, like you are. I had dreams when I was young too, though they went askew as the dreams of women tend to do. I thought it was time that a mother didn`t get in the way of her daughter`s dreams." Mother smiles then. "Besides she would have gone even if I had raised up a big fuss."

"Father would have been furious," I remark sitting next to my mother.

"Yes, well as much I love the man there are things he had best not know. . ." I realize suddenly that the person who had truly run Lanka`s Falls for the past twenty years was not my father.

"It has been said that behind every great man exists a great woman."

She laughs hard at that. "Who told you that?"

"Father did when he was trying to convince Gemma to marry that Fossoway boy."

"His heart was good, though the presentation off," Mother whispers, smiling through the tears that gather in her eyes. With that she lays in the bed and sleeps for the first time in days.

We continue North relatively undisturbed though many innkeepers tell us to stay away from Winterfell. As we get closer we hear that the Boltons occupy the ancient frigid keep.

"The Boltons bear the sigil of the frayed man. They were ones to attack us, not the Freys. Why would they break from the Starks?" Mother wonders aloud on the Kingsroad one morning.

"Gold most likely."

She gives me an irritated look as if I had just spoken the obvious. "Yes well we should avoid Winterfell all the same."

The new long route pulls us away from civilization and into the wilderness. Grandfather`s map guides us through and past Winterfell but the white cold powder everywhere slows us down. Mother believes it is snow; I really don`t care so long as we find shelter during the night. Wolves and shadowcats roam around us, making it hard to sleep but at least they stay away. Finally, after a week in the cold wilderness, we pass Winterfell and can travel on the Kingsroad again. By the time Mole`s town is around us, Mother and I can see the Wall in plain sight looming over the earth like an everlasting shadow. Yet, no people inhabit the town. People that are alive anyways. Dead bodies litter the ground, the rot in them causing my stomach to lurch. We ride forth to where the map says Castle Black when two men come out to meet us, one twice as tall as myself with brown long hair and a bushy beard while the other is much shorter with a dazed look upon his face.

"What`s your business with the Watch?" The tall one says glancing between us.

"We`re looking for someone. They may be using a different name, my son if you must know," says mother looking at the man she sits nearly eye to eye atop her horse.

"What name would he be using, yah think?"

"Maybe a Rivers?" I input, glancing at Mother.

The large man laughs then while his companion looks about, confused. "There are too many Rivers to keep count here. Come, have a look around maybe you`ll find him." He turns then to lead us toward the great mass of towers. We search among the few brothers that reside still, led by the huge man named Grenn, but find no one that even remotely resembles my sister. Then he takes us to the old Maester.

"We have been attacked by Wildings as of late, we fear there may be more to come. Our forces are strewn about the Wall, tomorrow brings bad omens for the men here. It would be wise to run South, go back to where you came," the blind old man says catering to his ravens.

"There is no place to return to," I tell him.

"Then stay and fight with us, if the time comes. Your brother may yet be here, though it is not likely. What were they in the Watch? A builder or steward perhaps?"

"They said they were a ranger in the last letter," I exclaim glancing at mother.

"There are so few rangers left here boy, he was probably lost to the Others on the Fist." We walk out in the yard then, watching the men train in the beaten square armor with clumsy step. A voice calls to us.

"You said your brother was a ranger?" A lanky man with black hair says. Grenn stands next to him, preparing his armor. "Your brother was a ranger?" He asks again coming closer and looking at mother and me intensely.

"That`s what the letter said." The two men share a glance then.

"There was a boy, came a bit late for recruiting but could best any of us with a sword, who was a ranger." Grenn says solemnly.

"Was?" Mother asks quietly.

"He looked a whole lot like you," the man says pointing at me. "But Glenn`s hair was darker and he was smaller, does that sound right?" I nod, hoping that news is good from here on out. My wish is in vain. "At the battle of the Fist, he led away a group of wights from the men. He was one of the few still on a horse and they were the only ones following that I could see so I guess he thought it was his duty to . . . protect everyone. He gave his torch to Grenn here." He pats his brutish companion on the chest with a sad smile. "A brave lad, that one."

"And a good friend. It`s an honor to meet his kin," Grenn claps me on the shoulder and shares a look with mother, as if that stifles the pain any bit.

"He left some things behind. We can make use of them. . . but the Watch won`t miss them if you take his stuff." Mother nods gently and lets me lead her by the hand to Gemma`s old chambers. The tall man, Pyp, shows us the way and leaves us in peace when we enter the cold and empty room. A thick fur lies over the straw bed. That looks to be the item that was Gemma`s. I look under the bed where a cloth bag lies, one that I recognize. It is mostly empty, all except a few gold coins, a lock of dark brown hair, two of grandfather`s maps, and the pit of a dragon pear. I hold it out for mother along with the lock of hair. Her hands grasp the hair and put it to her cheek, the tears already coming. I place the pit in my pocket in hopes it may bring good fortune, for once.

. . .

Nearly five moons pass over head bringing only war and death. There is constantly something to do and when the thousands upon thousands of wildings attack, I join the brothers in fight, while Mother stays with Maester Aemon. It is grisly business that never seems to end and I don`t see how we survive it. Surely, we would all die without Jon Snow. Any man could see that our numbers of forty men to the near five thousand wildings is a fool`s gamble; we will all die here. But Snow pushes them back and protects the barricade, using the Wall to his advantage. He walks with a crutch but commands with an intense voice and the men listen. They all respect that _he has_ the Wall. I notice he is close to Grenn and Pyp, but also to the other men. Jon Snow is well loved among them, though still green as the brothers put it. They say I am green too, but that does not stop my arrows from killing a wildling. When one shoots from seven hundred feet up to the snowy ground below, he does not need to be an excellent archer. It will strike someone in the throng of warriors pulsating at the gate. When we break their "turtle", the hull of a ship that the wildings use to block arrows, our enemy finally recedes somewhat beyond the Wall. The men scream and cheer before we take the long decent down the shaft to access the damage.

"Eli!" The older boy named Snow says, limping over to me. "Would you accompany me to Maester Aegon`s study? I am in need of some dreamwine, I think." When we are off the lift I limp slowly to the rookery with Jon leaning on me every so often. Mother is there with Aemon, tending to the wounded, and she embraces me as she does every day. Her tears fall on my breast; she cries often these days, more I have ever seen. After Jon takes the dreamwine I walk with him to the steward`s chambers in the King`s Tower.

"I knew your sister," he blurts once the door closes behind us in his room.

"You knew she was a girl?!"

"Yes, well, but she _told_ me, it wasn`t like that!" he says reading the look on my face and blushing slightly. "She told my friend Sam too. . ."

"Why would she tell you?" At my question he tells me story of a bear attacking my sister. It sounds like her to rush into danger as she did. I do feel like Jon is leaving certain details out of the story but I feel no need to pressure him.

"She was brilliant, you know. It started out we were the only two any good with a sword and it amazes me how she could come here all by herself with no aid. She was a strong one," Jon rambles on about her, his eyes glittering like I have never seen before, yet his smile is sad. He does not say it, but I get the feeling that Jon may have loved Gemma. A man does not rant about a woman in such a way without loving her. His voice trails off mid-sentence explaining some other story that I hadn`t been listening to.

A group of black brothers come soon after, with Janos Slynt and Ser Allistor Thorne in the lead. They throw Jon in an ice cage and label him a turncloak yet when they give him a chance to prove himself they send him beyond the Wall, to stay the wilding army. He leaves by himself to negotiate with Mance Rayder, and I expect that he will not come back. It seems luck strikes someone, for he does come back, only with a true army and wilding captives in tow. The banners behind Jon are the Baratheon stag among a flaming heart. I know not who it is at first, but realize that it is King Stannis himself, here to help the Watch.

A pudgy man embraces Jon tenderly upon their return. I learn that this is the 'Sam' Jon spoke of, another friend to my sister. The three of us speak of her sometimes, until Sam proposes that I help him in the Rookery with Maester Aemon`s birds. He shows me maps and journals from past members of the Night`s Watch. And I even show him grandfather`s maps.

"You should keep these to yourself, Eli. If Stannis finds these he may take them and they would be lost from you forever," he warns.

"I will. I just thought you should know, I guess."

Mother comes down with fever, and I look after her rather than help Sam. I hear her whispering about Gemma and Father and Danny in her sleep, sometimes startling herself awake. I kiss her brow and sleep takes me too, it seems I get so little these days. Mostly, my dreams are filled with Cassia, her kiss, her voice, her hair trailing behind her. I dream of how it would feel to be married to her, as Lords of The Valley of the Moon. I think of our children, golden hair and stormy eyes swimming in the river and climbing trees. Then I wake, tearful and guilt stricken that I could not save the girl who would have shared it all with me.

The Night`s Watch votes for the 998th Lord Commander at least ten times and King Stannis grows restless at their indecisiveness. At supper the King`s men locks them all in a room, determined to get a decision made. Cotter Pyke, the Commander of Eastwatch by the Sea, as well as Ser Denys Mallister, the Shadow Tower`s Commander both withdraw their chance to be the head of the Night`s Watch. I think that Janos Slynt will be the new Lord Commander, he has the best chance until Dolorous Edd nominates a new proposition for Lord Commander.

"Jon Snow," he says, though I am unsure if his proposition is one of seriousness. Whether it is or not the men take to it, murmuring his name in agreement. I see the man himself sneak into the dining room, an enormous white wolf at his heels. The men clap him on the back and some even dare to pat the wolf, but Jon only looks around confused until Janos Slynt blusters at him. Then men of the Night`s Watch begin calling for a vote by chanting "Kettle, Kettle, Kettle!" The Kettle is pulled away from the hearth, two men struggling with the heavy black thing, and as the lid comes off a black raven pops out, causing half the men in the room to nearly wet themselves. It circles the room three times and lands before Jon.

"Snow," it caws over and over again. Then it flies to the man`s shoulder.

"I know that bird! That`s Lord Mormont`s raven!" Sam says walking to Jon. Allistor yells about it being a trick by Sam, until the bird speaks again. "Corn?" It says hopefully. The bird squawks again before saying "Kettle, kettle, kettle?" When the vote is counted a torrent of arrowheads are released from the kettle, signifying that Jon is the Lord Commander.

I follow Jon, Grenn, Pyp, Sam, and the wolf out into the night wind. They jest with each other about the raven and the choosing, proud that their friend is the new Lord Commander. Jon seems happier than usual but worried. I imagine I would be too with as much responsibility as he has now. I congratulate him as well and stupid words fly out before I can stop myself.

"Gemma would be proud," I say smiling at him unable to take the words back now that they hang in the air. Jon returns the smile, though surprised at my outburst, before heading towards the tower of the Lord Commander; his new home.

. . . .

Gemma

Stranger and I wander along the Giant`s stair exploring caves and finding food. At the base of the mountain, we travel through a huge cave, led only by Stranger`s eyes in the darkness. I hear the sniff of an animal, a horse perhaps, and the shifting of the rider upon it. Yet, when I move to dismount from Stranger he lurches, pushing me on his back. He lowers his head as if to grip something with his teeth before turning and running from the person in the darkness. Stanger leaps down from ledge to ledge until we stand in the haunted forest. I jump off the shadowcat to try and pry the item from his huge mouth. He drops it before me in the snow offering no fight. The horn is white bone like the Night`s Watch`s but older with engravings on it that are unfamiliar. It seems to be in perfect condition. I look back up at the cave only twenty feet above my head. A man is up there, on the back of an elk. It is queer to see him, for few men have ever rode elks. Only the Children of the Forest were said to. His cloak is black as my own, marking him as a man of the Watch himself. My brother. Yet the hands that grip the Elk`s reins look as pale and dead as an Other`s. I look back down at the horn.

"I don`t suppose he wants me to go back, eh?" Stranger`s shiny silver eyes meet mine own and his tail twitches slightly as if to confirm my statement. "So you know him then?" The tail twitches again but, as per usual, he gives no reliable indication of knowledge. "I will only return if you come with me!" I say throwing my arms around the shadowcat. As if to answer, he sneaks under me so I sit on his back once more and we are off; back to duty and honor and the Night`s Watch.

**Author`s Note**

**That was a long chapter! Sorry it took so long. Tell me what you think of this chapter and also let me know how you feel about another love interest for Gemma. Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10 Reunion

**AU: This chapter is a turning point for the story and will set up some events in the next chapters. Tons of dialogue, more than I`ve ever written in fact, so tell me if it isn`t so good and what I need to fix please. Stay tuned for the ending to this chapter, I think you`ll like it anyways since Jon and Gemma are finally on "good" terms again ;), but it`s really important. I don`t own ASOIAF.**

**Reunion**

Gemma

Morning dew clings to me in frozen droplets and I shiver violently, trying to keep warm in the declining temperatures. A sunrise greets me, the pink and gold and then blue lights stretching across the snow like a heavenly rainbow. As I near home, I find there is little promise that any of my brother are alive. There is evidence all around to show that a battle was fought near the Wall. It is recent, for the snow is thinner on the tree stumps and tents that no one bothered to tear down in their hasty retreat. Stranger walks through the debris, letting me survey the scene with much dread. I grasp the horn and hold it to my lips, praying that the Night`s Watch still mans the Wall. The sound it expels is low and long and it surprises me how much air I have in my lungs. I wait for any sign on the Wall that my brothers may have heard the horn bellow before I sound it again. Figures scurry 700 feet above, but for which side I do not know. In the distance the gate opens and I pull Stranger`s hair slightly, asking him to go onwards. He lurches off towards the Wall in a flurry of snow and spit racing over the hills towards my home. If it be Wildings, then let me die the death of a true ranger. I recognize no one at the gate but am glad to see men clad in black, at least. There are foreign sigils among them, the most popular being a fiery heart with a stag placed in the middle.

"Who are you?" An unknown brother asks glancing at Stranger with fearful eyes.

"Glenn Rivers, ranger," I state detaching myself from the shadowcat. I push past the soldiers, wanting desperately to see the other side of the Wall through this tunnel.

"I`m a ranger too," the large boy says chasing after me. When I turn my cold gaze to him, he senses the irritation.

"Then what`s your name?"

"Matther Waters," his form seems to shrink upon telling me his name. This new ranger is far taller than myself, though I find him looking up to me in a different sense of the word.

"Good to meet you then. I`m sure you`ll understand that I have urgent business to attend to." I turn away from him to follow the dark tunnel. My hand snakes out to pat Strangers head that is level with my small shoulders. I take comfort that he is with me, things have obviously changed at the Night`s Watch. The tunnel opens into a brisk morning where my brothers wait to see the ranger that has returned. Many of them I don`t recognize, until a huge white beast leaps through the crowd. Ghost stops before Stranger, sniffing him with curious eyes until he bounds over to me. The wolf is as at eye level with me when standing and I throw my arms around the wolf`s massive head, kissing his soft furry face on tiptoe. A thin, grey haired man walks up behind his brothers, his voice distracting me from the wolf.

"Oy, Glenn Rivers, the dead rise! Not a walker are yah? Ha!" Dolorous Edd slides in between his crowding brothers, about to clasp me on the back until he gets a full view of Stranger.

"Don`t be so brave Edd," I say letting free a nervous laugh. My eyes fall to the odd companion at my side. His body language is carefree and thankfully not aggressive. "He doesn`t see you as a threat." Really he is more focused on Ghost than any of my brothers.

Edd approaches me then, still wary of the beast watching Ghost in the snow. "I may be slightly offended by that," he laughs patting my back and embracing me. Pyp appears behind him suddenly.

"You must be some sorta` ghost, Rivers. How in seven hells are you alive?" The lanky man proclaims, playfully punching at my shoulder.

"That is a long and terrible story."

"There are plenty of those to be shared around here," Pyp`s eyes turn dark and sad for a minute before more familiar shapes appear behind him. Sam nearly drags me into the snow when he throws his arms around my form. His questions are similar to Edd and Pyp`s so I simply say I`ll tell him at dinner.

"There something you should see, Glenn. Someone came for you while you were-" Sam starts before being interrupted by a distant yell.

A man runs towards us tripping on snow. He is taller and thicker than I remember, and at first I believe it is Danny back from the grave. The foolishness of this thought strikes me when I see the sun glimmering in his blonde hair. I race toward Eli, my mood soaring in a way I hadn`t thought possible in this snowy wasteland. I knock Eli to the ground laughing and rolling with him as we haven't in so long, covering each other in the white snow.

"They all said you were dead!" he laughs trying to pull us back to our feet. This man I left a boy back at home has grown to be taller than me by a head and his grip around my shoulders chokes me slightly.

"I have so much to tell you Eli!" I glance towards the shadowcat that approaches slowly, staring intently up at my brother. _Our_ brother.

"What is that thing?! It can`t be a shadowcat, they are only half that size." Eli pulls away, staring in awe at the beast before us.

"I`ve been wondering the same damn thing!" Pyp laughs stepping up to join us.

"He saved me out there," I say standing beside the cat. He nuzzles his huge head against my hand when I pet his scarred face. "I would be dead if not for him." Eli stares at the cat, unsure if he should approach or not. Voices sound behind us breaking the group away from the sight of my unlikely savior. The crowd parts and through it comes a man I thought may be dead. He limps through the throng of brothers, nodding to them as he passes. Jon`s dark eyes meet my own, new scars tracing his face in pink lines, and his mouth twists upwards in an odd smile. I walk to him, clasping his hands between my own.

"It is. . . good to finally see you again," he says breaking an uncomfortable silence. His words are awkward, but his voice lulls me into a comfortable state of mind, glad to be back with Jon again.

"And you brother," I reply, returning his nervous smile. It feels odd to call him brother.

Jon turns away from me, his expression turning serious. "I hate to bear bad news upon your return Glenn, but there are many things we should discuss."

"Conversation is a blessing, it`s not often that Stranger speaks back. Or ever speaks really." I gaze down at my friend, smiling at him. He snorts at my words, almost like a laugh.

"Then let`s talk. Eli and Sam too." Jon nods toward them, a sign for them to follow. We climb the steps of the Lord Commander`s tower, and though I expect to go to the Old Bear`s quarters, I do not predict the confines of the room. All of Mormont`s things are cleared away and a solemn man with a twisted crown sits by the fire accompanied by a red haired woman. The "King" in the chair moves to speak, a puzzled look crossing his face, but the red woman raises a hand to respectfully stop him.

"Glenn, this is King Stannis Baratheon, the first of his name, Rightful King of the Andals and the Iron Throne, and his Red Priestess, Melisandre of Asshai," Jon gestures toward the two figures as he introduces me to them and respectfully, I bow to the King and his mysterious companion.

"Speak the truth, young one. You are among friends," the woman in red says. "What you say will be heard by the God of Fire, R`hllor himself through mine own ears." I share a glance with Jon, confused at her statement.

"You have news of this army gathering in the Lands of Always winter," King Stannis announces his eyes trying to decipher me.

"I have not seen the army myself, my`lor- your grace, but I have seen the demons that roam in the lands covered in ice. They ride white spiders, huge things, bigger than this room and horses with dead limbs and blue eyes. Sometimes a wight bear may ride with them. I`ve only seen the beings killed by dragonglass, fire, and Stranger has killed a few as well when he rescued me."

"Stranger being this shadowcat that follows you?" Stannis asks roughly looking towards my companion.

"Yes, he saved me."

"A clever name for such a beast," the red woman interrupts approaching my friend. "There is little human left in him, yet it still exists within despite his condition. Do you know why?" I shake my head no in response, not knowing much about wargs. "You preserve the human in this friend. You were a part of this one`s past, therefore his past stays alive so long as he stays with you."

"A warg?" Eli questions appearing at my side.

"I haven`t wanted to say just yet about Stranger, I wanted to talk more when we were alone, brother. It seems the truth must be said now though." I touch Eli`s shoulder gently before continuing. "This shadowcat had a reason to save me. We are kin, he and I, brother and sister. A part of Stranger is Danny."

"If you had not found him, the beast would be all shadowcat, and almost none of your brother. The animal had nearly taken over when he found you," Melisandre cuts in, her strange eyes piercing my own.

"Danny was no warg?! He had never changed into an animal before, why would he do it dying?" Eli exclaims, with hands waving in the air.

"I have no explanation to give either, Eli. Danny told me in some dream, one that I cannot say was true, and has said nothing since. It is not as if the shadowcat can tell me his story anytime he feels the urge to chat!" My human brother stares, still unbelieving. "If you do not trust my judgment, look at his eyes. Tell me, have you ever seen another shadowcat with eyes like that?" Eli leans toward Stranger gingerly, searching the eyes for the grey of his family name. He finds some proof there apparently; Eli says nothing to contradict my claim.

"That`s extraordinary, Gemma," Sams voice calls from across the room. I had forgotten he was with us for a moment; he has been so quite.

"Yes truly," King Stannis calls, acting a bit bored.

"Where is Lord Mormont?" I ask turning to face Sam and Jon. With that, my brothers fill me in on the mutiny at Craster`s Keep, the wilding attacks, Stanis`s brave victory, Mance Rayder`s capture, and also the choosing of Jon to be Lord Commander. It is a great deal of information to take in, with many confusing emotions surrounding it. "There`s one question you didn`t answer: why is Eli here?"

The men around me are silent, afraid to say the answer. Finally, it is my brother by blood who speaks. "The Valley of the Moon was attacked, Gemma. Dreadfort men came and tore the land to bits. Father fought bravely, you would have been proud to see him stand and fight. He reminded me of Grandfather in that moment." Eli`s lips tremble as he struggles to find the words. "Mother and I were the only ones that escaped; they killed everyone." My heart quakes at the news and I fear I may break if I speak, so I stay silent. Stranger stands suddenly to pace across the room, his tail whipping about angrily.

"I would like to see Mother," I state trying to keep myself together.

"She is not well Gemma," Sam objects.

"What do you mean 'she is not well'? Will she die before her time too, as everyone does these days!"

"She burns with fever, Gemma. Master Aemon cares for her, but I fear the North is taking its toll on her. . ." Jon reaches for my hand then, trying to comfort me with this grim news. His intimacy would startle me in any other situation, but my mind is occupied with more important thoughts.

"Then let us take her to Riverrun! The air would cleanse her I`m sure of it."

"Riverrun is surrounded by Freys and Lannisters, girl. We would meet death there," Stannis interposes from across the room.

"By your brother Jon, he could help us?" Jon`s sad frown is my only response at first, but he gathers the strength to speak.

"My brother has been murdered by Frey men, Bran and Rickon by Theon Greyjoy, and the remaining Tully`s surrounded by Roose Bolton`s men at Riverrun. For all but the Night`s Watch, the North has been lost. It is not only your homeland that has been devoured by this war, but mine as well," Jon sighs, grasping my hand tighter as the story goes on.

"I _want_ to see mother," I repeat looking up at Eli. When he makes no move to lead me I rise and move to the door. Even in my haste I remember to bow to the King and Melisandre before leaving to go to Maester Aemon`s infirmary, where I imagine Mother will be. I am correct in this guess. Aemon has her laid out on a feather bed, cold cloths on her forehead and neck. The Maester greets me kindly, explaining her condition before giving us privacy.

The blind man stops at the door, leaving me with one last thought to consider. "It was a brave deed you did at the fist. Older, stronger men would have let another go in their stead."

"They are smart," I say, wishing he wouldn`t bring this up.

"They are cowardly and disloyal. You are brave and loyal, your strength spurs you to be just the same as them, but more willing to sacrifice. Do not forget, there is a strength and wisdom about women that men lack at times, it is the reason they work so well in pairs." His words confuse me so I do not think. I brush my mother`s hair in my fingers and I speak to her freely. I tell her about her son who is thought to be dead and about my friends in the Night`s Watch. I go so far to speak of the complicated feelings that are between Jon and I. She does not wake to any of it. I try again talking of the girly things; my favorite dress that I miss, with purple silk and silver trimmings, I talk of the flowers at the Valley, my favorite lilies. When I mention cutting my hair off she stirs in her sleep.

"Do not cut your hair, my sweet daughter," her soft voice calls in her dreamlike state.

"It has been done, long ago." She looks up at me, brown eyes finally opening to see my face.

"It grows though; your hair reaches past your shoulders." Mother reaches for her water goblet occupying the bedside table. I hand it to my mother and cuddle against her warm frame. "You are so dirty child, have you rolled in mud and grime and-" she stops noticing the blood that stains my skin.

"It is old. Do not worry," I whisper petting her head. She bolts upright on the bed.

"Where have you been? There has been word of your death, how are you with me Gemma?"

"I was saved," I say simply, gesturing for Stranger to come over.

"Those beautiful eyes. . . So like my son`s," Mother notices as she traces the white stripes and grey scares that cross the shadowcats face. He jumps on the bed, careful of Mother, before Stranger lays himself on our mother`s outstretched legs, her thin hands still caressing his cheeks. "I had dreamed that the two of you would come back to me, but not quite like this dream. Tell me daughter, is this only sleep?"

"It is not, though I wish you were dreaming back at the Valley." Mother is silent, her loving hands causing Stranger to be the most at ease I have ever seen him.

"I should have known you would come back together, Daniel always protects you as if you were his own daughter, not a sister. My brave children, doing what their parents could not. . ." She looks away, the tears forming in her tired eyes.

"That is not true and you know it. All three of us would be lost without you and . . . father," I pause, afraid to mention him. Mother kisses my cheeks.

"His bravery showed at the last possible moment, but it showed nonetheless. I am proud of my family, they are strong." She leans forward, eyes drifting close as her exhaustion grows.

"I think you should sleep Mother. I have business to attend to anyways and Danny can stay with you, if you like?" she nods, leaning back on the feather filled bed.

. . .

I tell my brothers of Stranger and how he saved me at dinner, as I promised Edd and Pyp, leaving out his true identity. They seem to have a new-found respect for my beast, one that I`m glad for. I sense that they hold me in the highest esteem as well, for my brave deed at the Fist of the First Men. Jon partakes in the celebration the men hold, sitting next to me. It seems odd that he wouldn`t sit up at the head table, where Lord Commanders are supposed to sit, but I refrain from saying so. I enjoy his closeness. He points out some of the new members of the Night`s Watch, like Janos Slynt, who glares at our table throughout the feast. Jon and I walk out into the chilly night together laughing and talking, two things I don`t think he has had the chance to partake in on a regular basis in the past months. We walk slowly towards the Lord Commander`s tower, a place I can `t seem to comprehend that is his. When we reach Jon`s chambers a familiar raven greets us.

"Corn, corn," it says upon seeing Jon. When it`s wise eyes fall upon me it squawks "friend, friend" before calling for food again. Jon chuckles at that.

"I must say, I`m surprised you were voted Lord Commander, did you offer to pay the men if they voted for you?" I jest at the man kicking his leg playfully from my seat.

"With what gold?" He asks laughing again.

"You laugh so little it seems, you should cheer up," I say with lilting tone.

"Then come around more, I seem to laugh whenever you are here Gemma." Jon`s eyes meet mine, longing apparent in them, before he looks away, suddenly uncomfortable.

"When I was in the wilderness, I promised myself that I would love you as I am meant to Jon Snow, if I ever saw you again that is. We are here together, against all odds, for a reason." My Lord Commander`s face falls, solemn once again. He is holding something back that he wants to say, I know it. "What would you say?" I ask gently.

"There are events still to account for that you do not yet know Gemma. A part of me is ashamed and other parts are so confused and torn. . . I don`t know what to do about this." He runs a hand over his face wearily, trying to maintain control of his emotions.

"Jon we are friends before anything, you tell me what you will and I will love you still."

"Then I fear your anger." We laugh at that but still I urge him to continue. "I have betrayed you. There was a woman beyond the Wall, one of the Free Folk. I loved her Gemma, I did. In so many ways I love her still, and yet I have never stopped loving you. She was exactly what I needed out there, she shielded me from death and made a loyal partner among the Wildings. Yet still, after you and I had let our affair settle, I run right into another woman`s arms, betraying any love I have for you. I`m sorry-"

"What is her name?" I ask, unable to keep the hurt from my voice.

"It was Ygritte. She was killed in one of the battles for the Wall. I burned her body myself in a pyre."

"Do you regret it?"

He pauses carefully before finding a suitable answer. "I do not regret laying with Ygritte, only betraying you." We sit in silence for a while mulling over the information Jon has spilled. "Are you angry?"

"That`s not the right term really, I just feel betrayed, for lack of a better word." And jealous. That emotion may drive me mad.

"There isn`t much I can say to make you stop feeling that. I will always miss Ygritte, she`s a part of me now and always will be. But I love you as well, in a way that I could never love Ygritte." He stammers over words, seeming anxious and sad and self-loathing all at the same time.

"In what way is that, Jon?" Beautiful brown eyes find my own and his hands reach for mine that grasp the chair.

"Ygritte was my lover. A girl who came at just the right time to save me and unknowingly help me spy on the wildings. She was an outside force that I grew to love, but she never felt like a part of my own being. You and I are not even lovers technically, and I feel as if you are a part of me I only just discovered. I think our love may burn brighter than Ygritte`s and mine ever did because of that. I need you in ways I know I can`t have being a man of the Night`s Watch, so I have to settle for you being near, yet I want you all the same." He kneels before me, grunting as his wounded knee hits the stone floor, and holds my fingers to his face. "The only thing I can ask of you is forgiveness, but I know I`ve hurt you, and I have no right to it." He kisses each finger and holds them in his cold hands.

"You already have it, Jon Snow. We are friends, I am confused and even hurt as you say, but I still love you as well. I could have stayed in the wilderness to live out my days; honestly I would have been happy about my life except for you. I would follow you anywhere Jon Snow." I lean forward and kiss his forehead, wishing it were Jon`s soft lips. After a moment he looks up, smiling.

"We should be partners, Gemma. Counsel me, as only you can!" I help Jon stand from the floor, his leg weak.

"What are you saying? I counsel you already!" He laughs again happy from this mysterious discovery.

"There is no head ranger, Gemma. You may be young but you have seen and killed more of the White Walkers than any brother here. As Head Ranger, we can be near each other and work together. You and I can lead the Night`s Watch against the wights, we can win this war."

"And if it is found out that I am a woman?"

"Than a woman will be Head Ranger and that shall be the end of it!" He exclaims, the mangled face breaking into a true smile revealing the boy underneath this new man. I fear it would be more of an ordeal than he states, but toss the feeling aside in glee.

"It would be a great honor to lead the Rangers, Lord Snow," he laughs carelessly at my stupid jest. "Yet I have a condition of my own."

"Name it and it is yours."

"All I want is one time for you and I to exist together as you say. We can be lovers, just once, so I do not have to be the only virgin here. I have regretted not being yours when I thought I would die in the Lands of Always Winter but now I have the chance to love you: I will not let it slip through my fingers again and die in this war." I fear Jon may not agree at first, but I can tell that he will by the smoldering glare he gives me by the end of my proclamation. The idea of breaking our vows is as appealing to Jon as it is to me, it seems. I lean forward and kiss him gently on the mouth, but break away before he can catch me in his arms. "Now is not the time to collect though, I need to comprehend all that has been said today. Soon enough."

"Do you enjoy torturing me so?" he whispers, kissing my ear in a husky voice.

"It isn`t my intention, but I must admit, it makes this agreement much more worthwhile." I grip his arms slightly before turning towards the door.

"Will you be Head Ranger starting tomorrow then?" Jon questions in mock seriousness from across the room.

"Do you promise to uphold our agreement?" I say lifting an eyebrow.

"I don`t think I could deny what you ask Gemma, nay, I lack the strength to deny _you_."

"Then tomorrow we are partners. Goodnight Jon, sleep tight." He laughs behind me at my slight joke.

"Friend, friend, friend," Mormont`s bird calls after me, almost mocking now. The raven doesn`t know how right he is.


End file.
